


Rebuilt

by Terrific_Lunacy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Beware the Sarcasm, Fake Science, Inventor!Harry, M/M, Male Slash, Not Canon Compliant, Plotty, Post-Apocalypse, Pre-Slash, Slow Build, Smart Harry, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-27 17:56:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 46
Words: 190,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2702009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terrific_Lunacy/pseuds/Terrific_Lunacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After society as we know it collapsed, humanity struggled for survival. Following a decade of chaos and anarchy, a new society begins to establish. Lords try to assemble the best followers around them and battle other groups for territory. Young Harry Potter tries to stay out of trouble, but when a new lord with unconventional ideas sees the potential in his unique talents, his quiet life soon gets turned upside down.<br/>Armed only with his wits, Harry has to take on one catastrophe after the other, all the while trying to uncover his own past and teach a certain smug bastard the meaning of personal space.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Rebuilt](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5637421) by [Akihiko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akihiko/pseuds/Akihiko)
  * Translation into Polski available: [Na prochach naszych przodków (odbudowujemy nasz świat)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8080879) by [Disharmony (anga971)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anga971/pseuds/Disharmony)



> Hi there :)!  
> After receiving some requests, I've decided to upload my story here as well so people can download it and read it more comfortably. I'm a bit confused with all the tags, warnings etc. so bear with me. I apologize in advance if I forget to upload on this site. If you want to make sure you get new chapters as soon as possible (or you're interested in funny *ahem* annoying A/N's), go check on Fanfiction.net; same name, same writer. Comments also help ;D  
>  **This has been going on for a year now. I still don't have a clue what I'm doing.**
> 
> **Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. All characters belong to J.K.Rowling. No money is being made. If you recognise anything else, it's not mine either.
> 
> Enjoy! :)

20 years ago society collapsed.

There was no other word for it; one day it was still there, barely being kept upright, the next day there was nothing. It was amazing really, that humans fought successfully against increasing natural disasters, climatic changes and the most vicious viruses, with a seemingly infinite amount of new innovations, techniques and ideas that allowed them to adapt ever so quickly to anything nature threw at them.

Until the hunger came. Until there were simply too many mouths to feed.

And everyone started to concentrate on one task alone: find, steal, produce, share, _kill_ for food.  
The society that was so successful due to the specialisation of every human, was doomed the moment there was only one goal worth concentrating on.

Without the maintenance of basic public services and the production of medical drugs, chaos and diseases spread throughout the world, allowing only the luckiest ones to survive. What once was a normal pneumonia became a death sentence, and due to the lawless environment no one was safe; your neighbour for ten years might shoot you every second now if he saw you had a leaf of bread.

The incredible high number of individuals that humans spent the last few centuries on producing was decimated to several thousand in only a few years.  
That might have the survivors allowed to start over again, but once society was destroyed it could not be revived that easily, even though the cause of destruction – too many humans - was not a problem anymore.

After about 5 years of total anarchy and pure chaos, humans once again proved that – even though if it came down to it you only looked after yourself – they were in fact social creatures and began to form groups.

Completely random in the beginning, without any meaning further than social interaction and shelter, few years later they formed the core of the new society.

Persons known as 'lords' began to arise, forming a group of selected people around them. Even though group dynamics was still an ever-changing process – new groups constantly being formed and disbanded, split into several smaller groups or merging with others – now the lords provided an unchanging centre, around which it all gravitated.

Strong groups did not automatically have more members. The ability of the lord to lead them and establish discipline was far more important. Strong lords had the power to conquer more and more territory from other, weaker groups, leading to more food and shelter and thus even more power.  
Of course raw physical power of the members was an important factor in these fights, but as the years passed, clever strategies, new weapons and alliances often were far more important.

When humanity finally settled down in this new system and started once again - _slowly_ \- to bring up children, 10 years had passed.

Every child conceived during the first 10 years of chaos was abandoned and had no chance of surviving. The same counted for the little children before the collapse. When families died or parents were killed there was no one to look after the children. Any child that couldn't keep up with the adults had little chance to find food for himself, thus everyone that wasn't at least 10 years old before the collapse had almost no hope to survive.

The last decade before the collapse and the first after led to a roughly 20 years gap between the newly conceived children, in the new society known as _'first generations'_ , and the fully grown-ups - _veterans_ \- who survived the chaos, all now at least in their thirties.

The gap between was known as _'lost generation_ '; not cared for like the first generations and not sharing the memories of another world with the veterans, the new society had little use for them.  
It was amazing that even after all what humanity has been through, there was always a group of people who didn't belong.

Harry Potter was one of them.

How he had survived was a mystery even to himself. He was one year old when society collapsed. He had no memory of his parents or anyone else, only his birth certificate somehow remained with him.

Now 21 years old, he was exactly in the middle of the lost generation. It did not help that he looked even younger. If he looked older, he could have pretended to belong to the veterans. As it was, he was a rather small but elegant young man with a beautiful face, pitch black unruly hair and startling green eyes.

If he had had a different personality, his looks would have provided him with enough to 'earn' his living among the veterans. He couldn't care less. Most of the time his face was covered with black coal dust, his delicate hands covered with blisters and small cuts and his too big but comfortable clothes covered in grease.

Remus called him an engineer. He said that was the term that was used for people who invented new stuff, exploring machines. Harry didn't argue since he _did_ built new gadgets but his passion was science. Chemistry especially. Building self explosives or nerve gases with a mixture of otherwise harmless chemicals fascinated him.  
He knew everything about science and technology that was ever written in a book, even though most of the things described there, he never saw in his life. Remus found it odd that of all people, a lost generation with no memories or education of the old world, was probably the best engineer that remained in the new world.

Whatever you wanted, Harry could build it. You wanted something to transport you over a wall? He built a package with airscrew worn on the back that could hold you in the air for 2 minutes. You wanted a new weapon to take out dozens of people without killing them? He built a gun that produced sonic waves that rendered everyone within 10 meters immobile.  
The things he built bordered on magic. And no matter who examined the gadgets afterwards, no one could rebuilt them, too complex was the inner machinery.

That's why no one in the town bothered him. You didn't want to get on his bad side, the pen he was holding in this moment could be a deathly weapon for all you know.

.

* * *

.

Harry let out an annoyed sigh. He was searching for his newly invented knife. Well, he didn't invent the knife, the customer wanted the knife to be unnoticeable so Harry had mixed together a paint that adapted to the background like a chameleon.

'I should have waited with the application though', he thought, furious at himself. For the life of him he couldn't find the blasted thing that was now conveniently almost invisible.

Finding something in his workplace was a challenge by itself.

He lived and worked in one room that was more a storeroom than a house.  
The front had shelves who were organised with some space for the customer and a sort of counter, but behind it was what Harry called 'organised chaos'.  
Hundreds of little pieces and half-finished inventions were piling up in shelves or lying on the floor, papers with scribbled notes on it over everything like a blanket.

On the other side of the hall was a bit cleared up space with a small kitchen, a table and a bed. The huge shelves between store and living space provided sufficient cover – and protection for if an outsider crossed the hall, he was likely to step on some explosive device.

Harry sighed again. He would have to buy a new knife and mix the paint again. The customer would not be happy about the delay.

Through the window he saw Remus Lupin walking hurriedly towards his shop. Remus was a veteran and one of the few people who visited Harry not for business.

He and his partner Sirius lived together in a close part of the town. They didn't talk much about the past, but from what Harry gathered they were childhood friends. Two friends who went through the chaos together and both stayed alive was a very rare thing.  
Almost no one knew each other from before the collapse.

Harry liked the pair. They respected him and treated him like an equal, not like some young weirdo who was just plain lucky to survive. They knew Harry's skill made him invaluable and it was his intelligence, not his luck that played the major role in his surviving.

Remus arrived in his shop. He came smiling towards Harry, almost jumping with excitement.

Harry had to stop himself from rolling his eyes in exasperation. He knew his friend well enough to know what could possibly cause him to be this excited.

"Hi Remus."

"Hi Harry, is it safe?" Remus asked , grinning as he thought of the last time Sirius stepped into the shop and spent the next hour immobile suspended in the air by a force field before Harry finally returned home.

"As safe as it gets," he grinned back and Remus took some more cautious steps.

"What's up? Need something?"

"No, not today. Have you heard the news?" Remus asked with barely contained excitement in his voice.

The question was unnecessary, Remus knew Harry didn't keep track on the local happenings.

"Nope. Is it good or bad?"

"Hmm well it could be both," Remus began, "you see there's this new group…"

"Remus how many times do I have to tell you I'm not interested?" sighed Harry slightly annoyed.

Remus and Sirius were both members of the group 'phoenix', led by lord Dumbledore and since quite some time the strongest group in town.

They were as friendly as a group can be, allowing the smaller ones some territory and didn't mind nonmembers. It was the reason Harry stayed in London. It was one of the only places he'd heard where you don't have to be in a group.

Harry didn't like the idea of serving some lord, especially since as far as he could tell they only cared for themselves, manipulating people to join them by flattering them and making promises. Then after you joined, you never even saw the lord again and if you didn't fulfil your role or got injured they cast you away.

Harry was happy living on his own. He knew is inventions were often used for group fights, but he never asked and he wasn't forced to choose a side in return. All in all he tried his best to stay neutral and not to get involved with group politics.

Remus and Sirius initially wanted Harry to join their group, since they saw his potential and knew he would make any group really strong with his quick mind and arsenal of unknown weapons.

But after one short chat with lord Dumbledore – alias lord phoenix - he decided that as much as he liked his two friends, he couldn't bring himself to swear his alliance to an old meddling man who pretended to be a friendly perfect grandfather, even though he ordered to kill a small group of 20 people just the night before, because one of them violated some rule.

Harry knew you had to kill to survive, he wasn't stupid. But if you did so then you should say it straight out and not making it as if you had no other choice, as if it was for the greater good and everyone was happier now.

But even if he didn't like lord Dumbledore, he didn't leave town. There weren't many places where you could live if you weren't in a group. Some time ago the strong groups began to send out small scouting parties, searching in other towns for promising talents, recruiting everyone that wasn't already in a group.

When it became clear Harry wouldn't join the phoenix group, Remus and Sirius seemed to have set themselves the goal to find Harry another good group to stay. He appreciated that they cared, but every lord he met was just another uninteresting individual and Harry always wondered why in the world people would follow them.

The worst one so far had been lord Lockhart who, surrounded by women, had, in exchange for Harry's inventions, offered him he could teach him the pleasures of the flesh – surely an invaluable asset in live for Harry? Needless to say Harry had left without another word and when met with Remus' and Sirius' inquiring eyes, simply told them Lockhart was very lucky to be alive.

Since then he refused to meet another lord.

"Come on Harry, at least let me finish!" Remus whined.

"Fine," grumbled Harry. Oh the things he did for his friends!

"Sooo, there's this new group, well it isn't that new I heard, but they come from quite far away..."

"Wait, the whole group travels the land for scouting?" Harry interrupted slightly surprised.

That was rare. Usually the lord just send a little party to bring back the new recruits. And most groups gave up on scouting since everyone was in a group.

Strong groups just waited for people to come to them, begging them for an invitation to join. The lord then tested the contestant and if he showed a promising talent – strong fighting skills, medical knowledge or other useful things - he took them in.

It also often happened that a contestant's skill was better than that of the member who currently held the position, and so the member got unceremoniously kicked out. If you wanted to stay in a strong group, you had to be the best at what you did.

Another reason Harry was reluctant to join. After all, what could he offer? 'Hello I'm good at building things?'

Of course, Harry knew he would be a valuable asset, but most lords didn't think outside the most common talents and Harry's mind could only be used to the fullest if he was actually involved in the plans, so he could come up with the perfect gadgets. That however meant that a newbie like him was involved in the most important plans. Not to mention he was a lost generation.

"I heard they keep their base a secret."

"Nothing new there then,"Harry mused .

A group either had his headquarters in a specific town or somewhere hidden on the land.

"No, no wait," Remus said hurriedly, "the lord himself is traveling I heard. With part of his group as protection of course, but he scouts himself."

"Hmm, so he doesn't mind to get his hands dirty with some decent work, huh?"

"Exactly!" Remus grinned . "Come on Harry, you always complain about how lords assemble the best talents without being strong themselves"

"Just because he travels doesn't mean he has any talent except manipulating" Harry retorted and began to sort through the counter. Maybe he had set the knife down here somewhere?

Remus looked a bit hurt and Harry winced at the expression. He hated to disappoint them damn it.

"So, do you know what he's like?" he asked and saw the hope returning in Remus eyes with Harry's interest.

"Well, I heard he has an amazingly strong group. There are rumours that some members were lords themselves before they joined!"

"Must be one hell of a flattering bastard if he got them to join."

Remus shot him a disapproving look. "Lords are clever Harry, and very proud"

"Stuck-up is the word I'd use..."

Remus ignored him. "If he is able to make lords join him as mere members, there must be something different about him!"

"He's even more stuck-up?" Harry suggested with a crooked grin.

Remus frustrated threw his hands in the air. "Harry, you _have_ to join a group somewhen..."

"Not if I can help it..."

"Somewhen soon," said Remus seriously. "Even lord Dumbledore begins to think it would be easier to only have phoenix in town."

Harry snorted. "He's been thinking that for a long time Remus. I'm amazed he hasn't killed off the smaller groups yet."

Remus looked at him with a sad expression. They never discussed Dumbledore's politics because they knew they weren't on the same side.

"Sorry," Harry murmured.

"It's alright Harry, I know it, I'm not stupid. But we care for you, we don't want you to get hurt. I would have recommended to leave town, but where could you go? Please Harry we just want you to be safe. And the world isn't safe, especially if you have no one there to protect you! Could you not at least consider to meet this new lord?" Remus looked at him with puppy eyes. Damn him!

"I can protect myself," Harry snapped .

"I don't doubt that stupid! But there's more to life than sit around alone inventing new traps to keep out intruders!"

"Well I never knew another life!" Harry shot back.

"Why do you think we want to show it to you so desperately?" Remus cried .

It hurt to see him so sad. Harry sighed. "Look I'm just not a person who follows others. I just don't trust them enough like you do with Dumbledore."

Remus smiled sadly. "That's because everyone is an idiot compared to you. No one trusts someone who is stupid in their eyes."

Harry couldn't help but return his smile. "Was that a compliment or an insult?"

"I heard this new lord is exceptionally intelligent…" Remus began innocently.

"Oh for Christs sake Remus! I've never met a person more stubborn than you!" Harry laughed .

"You should meet yourself then," Remus retorted grimly, "I'm nothing compared to _you_."

"Fine whatever! You win! How do I meet this marvellous lord?" he asked, just to make Remus stop nagging him.

Remus face lit up with excitement. "I heard he holds something like a party in the local inn tonight. Apparently he'll invite anyone he wants in his group."

"There you go, maybe he won't even invite me," Harry said, trying not to sound too hopeful and failing miserably.

"I seriously doubt that. And if he doesn't, then he's not clever at all and doesn't deserve our little Harry," teased Remus.

"I'm not that small!" protested Harry, but Remus just laughed at him and walked to the door.

He turned to him with pleading eyes. "Just promise me you'll go."

"If it makes you _that_ happy..."

"It does."

"Fine, I promise." Remus beamed at him and walked out.

Harry turned away from the counter - still no sign of the knife - and wondered how he would get invited if the new group didn't even know him.

Oh well, if he didn't get an invitation all the better; he could use the evening to mix the new paint for another knife.

At 10 o'clock in the evening, he decided that he would indeed not get invited. He really didn't mind, but he couldn't help but wonder why.

It wasn't unusual to scout members of other groups, hoping they would change their alliance, but nonmembers were far easier to get to join. And as far as Harry knew, he was one of the last nonmembers in town.  
But whatever, he had promised Remus to go _if_ he got invited, so he still would be able to keep his promise.

He closed the shop and went to bed.

.

* * *

.

He awoke with a start. Something had exploded.

He heard violent cursing and screaming. There had to be at least three people in his hall.

He got up quickly and headed for the commotion. He was armed, but he didn't think they wanted to harm him. No one ever attacked him, who the hell were they?

Sure enough one man lie on the floor; his face twisted in pain, his left leg separated from his body, blood pooling from the wound. Three others kneeled beside him, cursing.

"What the fuck was that?" yelled one.

"A small portable mine I'd say. But it shouldn't have been on the floor, did he touch the shelves?" Harry asked cooly.

"Who are you? Did you put that there you bastard?! Just wait 'till I get my hands on you!" yelled another, his face an angry grimace.

The injured man was obviously their friend. Harry felt bad for the man - a cripple would not survive long. It was true that most of his inventions were rather harmful, but Harry had always valued people's lives.

"I suggest you wait with that until after he's been to a doctor" Harry replied calmly.

Damn, why couldn't they keep their hands to themselves! He hated it when someone got injured out of pure stupidity. They looked angry, but more so desperate and the man wouldn't live if they didn't stop the blood flow soon.

He wasn't really concerned that they were going to hurt him. As far as he could tell no one wanted him dead, he was way more useful alive when his brain was still working. And they hadn't even moved towards him,despite their threats.

Harry set down his flash gun in favour of pulling a few bandages out of one shelf. Nothing much, but it was a start.

Just when he began to walk towards the injured man, someone grabbed him from behind and roughly pulled something over his head. Harry cursed and began to kick. He couldn't see anything and his flash gun was somewhere in the next shelf. Brilliant.

'How stupid can they be?' Harry thought furiously. They've seen he wanted to help them, what the hell could be more important than their friend?

"Harry Potter I assume?" came an even voice from behind, "you're coming with us." The fourth man obviously didn't care for the injured man as the others did.

Harry wanted to tell them that their friend was going die if they didn't let him help, but something hit his head hard and he blacked out.

.


	2. Chapter 2

Remus was right, Harry decided. He _had_ a thick head.

When Harry woke up, his head throbbing as expected, it was clear he wasn't meant to be conscious – yet.

Howled over the shoulder of one of his kidnappers like some sac, they were still in the process of moving him. He could hear their footsteps against the plaster and it was a bit chilly. They must be outside, walking across the town to god knows where.

Harry didn't stir, it was better when they didn't know he was already awake.

Carefully he analysed his situation. Injuries? Just a headache nothing serious. Attackers? At least 4 men, 5 if the injured counted. Weapons? None. 'Shit' Harry thought annoyed. What good is it to sell all his inventions but having none at his own disposal if the need arises? Destination? Unknown.

Bloody great, Remus would throw a fit for sure. He could already hear his friend: "If you were in group phoenix no one would dare to…" and so on. Sirius would stand next to him, nodding after every single one of Remus' words.  
Actually Sirius was the more energetic and talkative one, often interrupting people and getting carried away fast in the heat of discussions. But as soon as Remus opened his mouth, Sirius shut up and approved silently. Harry was only left to marvel at their relationship.

"We shouldn't have left him there!" exclaimed a voice to Harry's right.

Left? They _left_ their friend in _his_ workshop to bleed to death? What a mess.

"He would have died anyway, stop whining," ordered the man who was carrying Harry.

"But..!"

"I said stop! You want to burden the lord with a cripple?" His voice was cold and unforgiving.

"No but..."

"Good. Then I will not mention your questionable behaviour tonight."

"I did not…"

"...Follow your orders? Indeed."

"I did! We were ordered..."

"...To invite him. Not attack him and mess up his shop. What would have happened if the whole damn place exploded, eh? _He_ told you his shop was rumoured to be…explosive."

"He said to bring him by all means necessary! We did not mean to…"

"We're here," interrupted Harry's carrier abruptly.

The man's shoulder moved as he reached forward. Harry heard the sound of a door opening. Animated chatter, laughter and clatter of plates and glasses filled the room.

"There you are my lovely birds! Did you bring me my present?" screeched a women. Her loud laughter sounded more than a bit insane.

"He's not yours to toy with Bellatrix."

"Oh surely a tiny bit? The little rat must have known he would be punished! Why else would he deliberately ignore the invitation? You wanted me to play a bit with you did you not, hmm?"

The last sentenced was whispered into Harry's ear. A bag was still wrapped around his head but he could hear her clearly. He must be in the inn Harry decided. But what were they talking about? It was not his damn fault if they didn't invite him.

The bag was ripped off his head and the man shoved him on the floor.

Harry stumbled by the force, but found his balance quickly and tried to look around, but the woman grabbed his hair and pulled his face uncomfortably close to hers.

She had wild curly black hair and dark eyes, with thick eyebrows and full lips. Harry decided she would have been attractive, if she didn't look so utterly mad.

She was breathing heavily, all the while grinning at Harry. The wild look in her eyes was more effective than Harry's bright red 'Danger!' sign in the front of his shop.

"Well dearie dear, do tell us why you didn't find us worthy of your time? Please go ahead, we are dying to know."

At this point the conversations in the room had stopped completely. Everyone was watching the spectacle.

"I did not get an invitation to this…social gathering. As much as I regret it, I can assure you. I heard they treated guests like kings here," replied Harry, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

The women cackled her disturbing laugh and pushed him a few steps more into the room, so that he was now standing directly in the middle of the inn.

He had been here before; when his friends decided he needed more 'social interaction'. After the chaos, most parts of the city were abandoned.

Old Tom took a liking to the big inn and rebuilt it as well as possible. Everything looked a bit shabby but the bar, most tables and some rooms upstairs were still usable.

Harry and Tom were friendly with each other. They weren't as close as Harry was with Remus and Sirius, but old Tom was like Harry not in any group. His pub was often used as neutral territory for negotiations, or just for a nice evening out since there wasn't really something else to do. Since Tom started brewing his own alcohol, the pub was well visited.

Harry's eyes darted towards the counter and found Tom. His eyes were worried but his expression blank; he had the policy not to get involved, like Harry.

"You have the gall to lie to me brat? That's not very nice my dear, did your parents not teach you respect? You have to answer the post you know. Yes, it's very important to always check your mailbox," she sang.

Post? Mailbox? 'Shit', Harry thought, expressions from the old world. He had heard them before but he didn't remember what they meant. Everything from before the collapse that was non-related to science was of no importance to Harry.

"I did not get your invitation," he repeated, "honestly."

She looked at him, her expression sobering a bit at his honest tone. Slightly confused she turned to his kidnappers and fixed them with a withering look.

"We did deliver the letter, I swear!" cried one horrified. Harry thought it was rather amusing how scared these followers were of their lord and co-members.

Harry recognized his voice; it was the man who was complaining about his friend being left to die.

"We checked when we came to get him, he had the letter!"

Bellatrix turned back to him triumphantly. "Liar," she chirped, "Telling me dirty little lies, the rat."

"Look I don't even know what you mean by mailbox, let alone by post," Harry retorted annoyed.

Her eyes grew big "You _dare_ to..." she screeched, but Harry would have none of it. He knew starting an argument would not lead him anywhere but he wasn't one to idly sit by.

"Yes damn it! I got kidnapped by your charming little friends, and my shop is a mess! Now _you_ dare to accuse me of ignoring something I never got…"

"We brought you post!"

"I told you, I haven't the slightest idea what you mean."

"That's impossible, everyone knows!"

"Well I'm not everyone!"

"But we put it in your mailbox..."

"I didn't know I have one."

"Every house has a mailbox! The small metal box in front of your house, stupid!"

"Could be a UFO for all I care."

"You stupid little…! One puts letters there."

"Why on earth would you waste paper for that?"

"It's an important invitation, we specially sent someone to every house."

"Why would you waste paper _and_ time? If you went past my house why didn't you just _tell_ me?" asked Harry truly astonished.

"How _dare_ you-..!"

"Bellatrix," interrupted a low voice.

Harry turned around. _Slowly_. Because the only reason why an already silent audience would hold their breath at the same moment, was if a truly fearsome person stepped in.

Wary green eyes met intense red.

The man was standing on the winded staircase that led upstairs. Impeccable dressed – who cared about their clothes nowadays? – he was leaning almost leisurely on the railing, fixing Harry with his gaze.

He was dark haired like Harry, but it was silky and framed his head without a single strand out of place. Handsome – not that Harry cared – and surprisingly young. Not a lost generation for sure, but he couldn't be much older than thirty.  
He must have gone through the chaos when he was still only a teenager; God alone knows what he must have done to survive, Harry certainly didn't want to know in detail.

In this shabby inn and dirty, worn-down town, surrounded by men and women who probably hadn't taken a bath for a week, his white clean complexion seemed out of this world.

To build new, not seldom lethal devices, Harry relied to 50 per cent on his intelligence and to 50 on his instincts. Right now 99.9 per cent of him screamed ' _run!_ '. Too bad the very small rest of him that was still able to think coherently knew he wouldn't get far. And somehow he had a feeling that this time, the lord himself would chase him down and _he_ wouldn't get blasted up by a mine.

The lord - for it was obvious he was one, his whole demeanour screamed for respect – took the last round of stairs and stopped at the base, but didn't approach any further.

"I apologize," he said calmly, his voice like cool water. If the room could possibly grew even quieter, it would have. Much later Harry realised that it was possibly the only apology that had left the man's lips, _ever._ Even if it did not sound too apologetic.

Bellatrix looked completely devastated. "M-my lord…"

"Post," the lord addressed Harry, completely ignoring Bellatrix, "was a system used to distribute letters. For a long time it was the only information system that existed until television, phones and computers intervened. However, it never ceased to exist, often being used for more formal occasions or out of habit. I observed that even after two decades of chaos, most people still checked their mailboxes in the morning, desperate to hold on a little bit of normality. I imagined it would trigger a surprised surge of happiness, when one morning there was indeed a letter in it."

"And if they don't, you beat them to death like me?" inquired Harry, feeling a little sulky that someone had to explain such a basic thing to him, in front of a crowd none the less.

The lord lifted an eyebrow, and the corners of his mouth twitched a little. "You look very… _lively_ to me, young man."

And to Harry's utter horror the man's red eyes roamed open over Harry's body. Since every other occupant of the room observed even the slightest move of what was going on, they followed his example.

 _That_ _bastard…!_ Harry felt oddly violated and very self-conscious. His cheeks began to heat up. Good thing his face was half covered in dust, he would _not_ blush.

"My lord," Bellatrix pressed out, she seemed somewhat… jealous? "He _did_ get the letter my lord, like everyone else! He has no excuse!"

"His date of birth is his excuse Bellatrix. Surely you can guess his age?" He threw a pointed look in Harry's direction and of course, every eye in the room once again zeroed in on Harry.

Harry cursed silently; he had hoped no one would pay much attention to his age. For the first time since the lord entered, murmurs began to fill the room.

"Lost generation," Bellatrix sneered, her wild grin returning.

Harry almost pointed out that her beloved lord nearly counted as one too, but he decided to let it be. Let them think what they wanted, in a decade the ones in the gap between first generations and veterans would be in their prime, let's see who's laughing then. Plus with all the dust on Harry's face and his large clothes, he was confident he seemed a bit older, increasing the chance to get some respect from them.

No such luck, the lord had other plans. "How old exactly are you?"

 _Bastard_.

"21," he replied curtly, no point in lying now. He somehow doubted the lord would have bought his lie anyways.

The lord smirked. "Well, I hope you will forgive my men, and women, for their rough behaviour. I hereby invite you to my modest party. Please, enjoy yourself."

And with one last amused look at Harry he went back upstairs, Bellatrix and his kidnappers hurrying after him.

Damn him, thought Harry, the man was _good_.

.

* * *

.

Lucius Malfoy enjoyed himself immensely.

After weeks of exhausting travelling and sleeping in uncomfortable places, he finally saw what he was looking for; a spark of interest in his lord's eyes. He didn't know what exactly he saw in the boy, but he didn't care, they had reached their destination.

For Lucius, the case was closed: Take the boy and go back home, where he wouldn't be forced to constantly live in this _dirt_. Hopefully someone would clean the boy up first; he was covered in dust and all kinds of oily substances. And his hair! No matter how precious water was, surely he could spend some to wash properly now and then?

He was surprised that the boy should be a lost generation. He had heard he was some kind of rumoured genius, but he didn't even know what a mailbox was! Could he even read and write? He wouldn't blame him if he couldn't, it didn't surprise him if he had better things to do in his 20 years of life. Surviving for example.

He turned to his co-member to ask if he wanted another drink, but stopped with his mouth open.

Severus Snape, usually calm and expressionless no matter what the circumstances, sat completely frozen and stiff, eyes wide with a strange mixture of shock, relief and pure horror in them, and stared at the boy. The sight was so unexpected that Lucius had to forcefully pull himself together.

"Severus? What is it?"

No reaction. What was wrong with the man? Annoyed at being ignored he reached out and shook Snape's arm slightly.

"Hey, Severus, what's wrong with you?"

Snape turned to him as if in trance, his eyes obviously seeing things Lucius couldn't. His vision slowly adjusted as if waking up from a particular deep sleep.

"Excuse me? Oh no, it's nothing." Once again fully composed, he took a sip of his drink.

"It didn't look like nothing," Lucius remarked warily.

But Snape ignored him. Lucius let him be, he wasn't fond of begging for information, no, he just waited until the information presented itself. All he had to do was keeping an eye on Severus Snape. Like he always did.

.

* * *

.

Harry wanted nothing else than to leave. However, he wasn't very fond of being kidnaped and decided that once was enough, thank you very much.

The lord had let him be after all, if he was happy with Harry accepting his stupid invitation to stay here for the night and then left him alone, fine.

He crossed the room and took a seat at the bar. He could feel the stares of the others on his back, but now that the strange lord had left, they slowly returned to their conversations.

Tom poured him a drink, unasked.

"Goes on the house," he whispered. "You okay? There's blood on your head..."

Harry reached for his head and found the wound. It was already closed and didn't seem too bad, but he could feel the dried blood that covered the back of his sculp.

"I'll be fine, thanks." He took the drink.

"You're not the only one they invited. A whole bunch from the smaller groups are here, even from phoenix, very good for business." Tom grinned. "I get the feeling they all want to join, and he hasn't even done anything yet, just a short welcome speech but no goals, no promises, nothing. He hasn't even told them they could join, just that he considered the possibility, and everyone swelled with pride. Can you imagine?"

Harry snorted. That lord was good. Not at all like Dumbledore, with his flamboyant speeches and colourful promises of a bright and happy future. He just simply _was_ there, radiating calm confidence that one could do anything.

And he apparently saw right through Harry. How much did he know? Did he just hear the rumours about his skills or did he know Harry could build almost _anything_? He hoped not. His gut told him the lord wasn't squeamish. If Harry turned out to be too dangerous and refused to join, he would not have a bump on his head but a cracked open skull.

He wondered if Remus knew just how dangerous his marvellous lord was. He hadn't even commented when he sent 5 men to get Harry and only 4 returned.

He decided to politely wait a few more hours and then quietly leave the inn. That way, he wouldn't further insult anyone. Of course, he wouldn't be who he was if trouble didn't magically find him. Or if his plans would work for a change.

Bellatrix came back from upstairs, her eyes already trained on Harry before she even reached the ground. Her playful demeanour was gone, she looked furiously as she crossed the room.

"You. Upstairs. Now," she hissed.

Uh-oh, that couldn't be good. The lord was upstairs. But when he saw how the conversations once again ceased in favour of watching him and Bellatrix, he decided to go without further objections – they would have fallen on deaf ears anyways.

He stood up and waited for Bellatrix to lead the way, but she made no inclination to go back upstairs herself. After a last shrug in Tom's direction, he turned and began to climb the stairs.

.

* * *

.

That face. His hair. Those _eyes_. It couldn't be. But there was no other explanation. The man they had crossed the country for was Harry _bloody_ Potter.

After all that he's been through. The betrayal. The guilt. The fear. The endless search. The anger. After he finally, _finally,_ decided to let it rest and his past stopped haunting him.

'Lilly', he moaned silently, 'your son is alive'.

And he was right under Dumbledore's nose.

'There's this talented young man without a group in our town. Why don't you recommend him to your lord Severus?' _My ass._

He had planned this. For a reason that Snape couldn't fathom, the man had waited patiently for this perfect moment. Did Voldemort know? He hadn't reacted in any way; it's been 20 years after all.

Sorrowful he watched the boy vanish upstairs.

He needed to get him out of here. _Fast._

_._

* * *

.

One door of a suite stood slightly open. Harry _so_ didn't want to go in there. Annoyed at himself for getting kidnapped, he shook his head to clear his thoughts and drive away the fatigue. Pulling himself together, he entered and closed the door behind him.

"Ah Mr Potter! Welcome, please, take a seat."

The lord sat on a leather armchair, hands folded in front of him. His pleasant smile was a bit too sharp at the edges.

Harry warily sat down in another armchair across of him. How had he known his name? He must have spoken with someone from town, old Tom maybe?

The lord poured himself a drink from a low table to their right, and took a sip.

He smiled sweetly at Harry. "Well then Mr Potter; let's talk about your future. You see, someone is hoping I would kill you tonight…"

.


	3. Chapter 3

" _Well then Mr Potter; let's talk about your future. You see, someone is hoping I would kill you tonight…"_

Well, great; at least he was straightforward. But how was one supposed to react to _that_?

Harry regretted not tagging along with his friends whenever they invited him; if that's the kind of conversation you had on an evening out, he _did_ need more training. Although he was pretty sure no standard protocol applied to this specific conversation.

"Well… I'm still breathing," he remarked drily.

"I'm glad to see that the important details of live do not escape your notice." The fake sweet smile turned into a slightly less attractive, but genuine smirk. That bastard was enjoying himself way too much.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on or what?"

"Ah well, the truth is, I'm still deciding that."

"You are still decid-…" Harry forced himself to calm down. The lord was riling him up on purpose; no need to rise to the bait. Irritated Harry pinched the brick of his nose and took a deep breath.

"Why?"

"Because I couldn't make up my mind yet of course," the lord smirked, purposely ignoring that Harry asked for the reason why someone wanted him dead.

Were some people just born to be jerks? Harry's face twisted in disgust.

"Did they not offer you enough in return?"

The lord threw him a withering look. "I'm not an assassin," he stated coolly.

Harry snorted. "Could have fooled me. I never did anything to you so-"

The man was on his feet with a speed that could not possibly be human. With two hands he yanked Harry up by his throat and brought his face so near that their noses were almost touching. Harry was standing on tiptoes, only held upright by the lord's grip. He looked up in those red eyes and was surprised by the amount of sheer anger and pain he found there.

"You have _no_ idea what you did boy," he hissed, his hands gripping Harry even tighter. It became painful to breath.

"I don't even know your name!" he rasped out.

The pressure on his throat cut off his windpipe completely. Now he couldn't breathe at all. Harry forced himself not to panic but couldn't suppress the reflex to lift his hands and tug weakly at the lord's arms. The man didn't seem to take notice of Harry's predicament, he was too lost in his rage.

"No. No you don't. Of course you don't. But I know _yours_ Harry Potter, and for years I dreamt about killing whoever called that name his own."

Harry's lungs screamed for air. His body was twitching now, it took all of Harry's control not to start trashing mindlessly. Little black dots appeared in his vision. The lord lifted him up completely and brought his face even closer, never breaking eye contact. Harry wondered if he would actually kill him.

"And then I realised, it had become an obsession that made me nothing more than a mindless machine. It made me vulnerable and easily manipulated. It was my weakness. _You_ were my weakness."

He knocked him to the floor. Harry gasped and coughed desperately for air. His windpipe felt crushed and his throat was sore. The world was spinning in his head.

The lord regained his composure and smoothed his clothes back into place.

"Imagine my… delight, that even after I decided to abandon my obsession, I _still_ got manipulated. Now, to your incredible luck I can't decide whether I want to kill _you_ or that idiot who thought he could use me for his cowardly plans."

His throat finally eased up a bit and fresh air streamed into his lungs, but he didn't even bother trying to sit up; he felt light-headed and sick, the world was a whirlwind of blurry colours. He tried to understand what the lord was saying, but he couldn't concentrate over the loud pumping of his heart in his ears.

He felt more than saw that the lord was crouching down beside him.

"And even more regrettably is that I indeed could use your talents, if you live up to your reputation that is."

Harry still didn't move but he decided to take a chance and tried to talk. It felt like he was screaming but only a raw whisper came out.

"You're not delighted I take it."

The anger in the lord's eyes faded, and the corners of his mouth twitched slightly. "No _Harry_ , I am not. However, I'm beginning to believe your presence brightens my mood considerably. It's therapeutic."

"Glad I could help."

The lord stood up and returned to his armchair, where he took a large gulp of his drink.

"So, back to the beginning; I'm still deciding."

Harry cleared his throat. It hurt like hell. "You're not going to tell me what I did?"

"No, not yet."

"Will you tell me who else wants to see me death?"

"Probably not," was the light answer.

"You don't think he might kill me the moment I step out of here alive?"

"Why _Harry_ , I didn't take you for an optimist. Who said I'll let you live?"

Harry glared at him as best as he could from his position on the floor. "I thought you're still deciding."

The lord looked at him amused. "And you are positive you can win my favour?"

"I won't try anything of the sort. But if you hold a personal grudge for years and then finally have the chance to take revenge, you first make sure that the person knows exactly what he dies for. _You_ however refused to tell me anything at all."

The lord seemed to contemplate his statement for a moment. "Clever as expected. Very good _Harry_ , your chances rise by the minutes"

Harry let out an unbelieving snort and stood up slowly. He still felt light-headed, but the world had stopped playing carousel.

"Could you please stop doing that?" he asked as he carefully sat back down in his armchair.

"Do what?"

"Saying my name like that. It's unnerving."

He smirked at him. "I'm trying to get used to it _Harry_. Plus it's highly enjoyable."

"Oh? Getting used to a death man's name seems like a waste to me."

"Hmm, indeed. On the other hand, killing you seems like a waste too."

"Good to know," deadpanned Harry.

"But I'm sure it would be fun as well."

That was _not_ good to know. That man was crazy. And what other sick bastard was out there after his life anyway? The only thing someone could blame him for was building weapons that were used in a rather…unfriendly way. But he couldn't remember doing something to deserve death. And surely he wouldn't have forgotten meeting a man like him?

"Join my group," the lord said abruptly.

Harry gaped at him. "Was that supposed to be an invitation? Just now you nearly killed me and yet you sound like I already agreed!"

"You don't have a choice _Harry_. You want to live I assume?"

Harry felt his anger beginning to rise to unhealthy levels. "Now look here bastard, if some lord could have just threatened my life in order for me to join, I would be in a group already. For all I know you just made that story up to-"

"It is _not_ made up. There isn't a second that I don't wish you were never born," the lord hissed.

Harry's insides clenched in fear. There was so much conviction in his voice that he couldn't possibly be lying.

The lord sighed. "This complicates my plans a lot. Believe me, I abandoned every intention of hunting you down for many years now. And if I knew _you_ of all people would be behind this rumour, I possibly wouldn't even have come here. I pride myself to be a logical man with control over his emotions bu-"

"Control?" exclaimed Harry in disbelief. "You almost killed me on a whim and you call that control? Hell, I _really_ don't want to see you when you lose it…"

"Like I said _Harry_ , you're the exception. I knew I would get overwhelmed by rage if I saw you. But that is not our problem right now."

Harry laughed. "Well, maybe it's not yours but it sure as hell is mine."

The lord ignored him completely. "No, the problem is there is someone out there who was certain that I would kill you if I were to meet you."

Harry paused to consider this. "You know each other pretty well don't you? I mean there is no way someone could be that certain of your actions if he didn't know what kind of person you are."

Harry tried not to think about what type of person the lord exactly was, if strangers made the assumption he went around killing people on sight.

The lord finished his drink and set the glass on the table. Then he graciously stood up and began to pace the room.

"It is best if you do not know too much about the past."

"Considering that there are two people wishing for my death because of it, I'm afraid I can't agree with you."

The lord paused and stared out of the small window. "I cannot hold you responsible for your actions in the past. Reason itself is against it. That however doesn't mean I don't wish you were never born. Because if you weren't, you couldn't have done anything in the first place."

"That didn't make any sense. At all, remarked Harry exasperated.

The man turned to Harry, the usual smirk on his face again. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that I decided, _for now_ , not to kill you. But…"

He came to a stop besides Harry's armchair. Harry wondered why sitting down was often considered a privilege while the servants remained standing. With the lord's tall figure looming next to him, Harry couldn't help but feel trapped and small in his chair.

"…but that still leaves someone out there hungry for your blood. And as much as it pains me to confess ignorance, I have no idea why."

Harry's neck grew stiff from looking up to him. But breaking eye contact was not an option. "Wait, I thought you knew who-"

"I know _who_ , but not _why_. Do try to pay attention _Harry_ "

Harry opened his mouth in outrage and wanted to retort but the lord held up a hand to stop him. And to Harry's horror he found himself obeying the unspoken command, as if it was an inherent instinct.

"He must want you dead if he arranged this little meeting for us, but it simply does not _fit_. I'm missing something, a piece of information that might be crucial to understand what happened. He is a manipulating fool and he divides the world in black and white, this made him so certain that I would stay true to my revenge."

Dread began to settle in Harry's stomach. "Dumbledore."

The lord raised his eyebrows. "Whatever do you mean?" he asked in mock ignorance.

"It's Dumbledore isn't it?" Harry took the silence as a yes. "Shit I'm _so_ dead," he groaned. Dumbledore controlled the freaking city. There was literally no place for Harry to run. Two strong lords wanted him dead, and he wasn't even in a group.

"But wait, we lived in the same city for years how come I'm not already dead? I mean, he isn't the type to get his hands dirty, but he has many men under his control who would happily do the job for him. So why did he wait for you?"

"Another piece that does not fit in the puzzle. I'm beginning to think his manipulations reach much farther back than I originally thought. I don't like it at all, and you", he leaned forward and invaded Harry's personal space once again, "you are going to help me understand it."

Harry leaned back and tried to get some space between them but the armchair trapped him.

"I don't even have a clue what happened in the past, how am I supposed to know what even you don't understand?"

"Because what you said earlier is true. If you are planning to kill someone for years, you make sure he understands the reason."

Harry gaped at him "Wait a sec, that's your plan to find out? But wouldn't that mean…"

"That Dumbledore must believe he has no other choice but to kill you himself. And right before that, he will tell you what he purposely didn't tell me 20 years ago."

He smirked at Harry, obviously enjoying his reaction.

"Yeah great plan, except, oh I don't know, I will be _dead_ before you will find out?"

"Please, what kind of lord would I be if I can't even protect one member?"

"Wait I-…I did _not_ agree to join you damn it!" He pushed the lord out of his way and stood up to get some much-needed space between them.

With his hands folded behind his back the lord followed him slowly while Harry backed away more and more.

"Alone you won't stand a chance against Dumbledore. In fact you don't stand a chance against _anyone._ I'm truly surprised how all these groups just let you be."

"Why shouldn't they? I haven't done anything and like you said I'm not a threat on my own so-…"

"Oh no _Harry_ ; I said you don't stand a chance if they would seriously attack you, I never doubted you were a threat. I'm merely surprised they don't see that as well."

Harry's back hit the wall. Well shit, end of the road. And the lord was still approaching.

"I'm not… How could I possibly be a threat I'm just one person. And a lost-generation on top of that."

The lord grinned as if he knew exactly that Harry wanted him to underestimate his talents.

"I don't fear your person, _Harry_. I am… wary of your mind."

Harry was trapped once again, this time between the wall and the lord. The constant closeness of the other man made him nervous. That was bad; he usually couldn't think straight if he was nervous. Harry started to sweat.

"My mind huh? It's not _that_ great you know…rumours and such… often exaggerate…"

"Should I go back to strangling you then?"

"Gods no!" cried Harry, "I thought we covered that, err, you know, reason over emotions and stuff…"

"You missed an important point I'm afraid: the only _reason_ to let you live in the first place is that I could use you."

"Yes, yes, to get Dumbledore to tell you whatever you think he kept from you. I get it okay? I want to know what happened in my past and since you refuse to tell me I actually might consider your crazy plan-"

"No."

Harry looked up to the taller man, confused. "No? Now look here, it was _your_ plan-"

"And we will execute it. But that was not what I meant with using you."

"Err, look you have no idea what I'm even doing right? You just heard some rumours and-… For fuck's sake could you please back off! I can't _think_ like that!"

The lord had moved so close that their bodies were literally touching. Seriously, what went on in that lunatic's mind?

The bastard had the nerve to actually chuckle. And he didn't back off; not an inch.

"I'm perfectly comfortable. Anyways, we are getting off topic."

"Really now? Which one exactly? The one where you can't decide whether to kill me or not, or why Dumbledore wants me dead, or-"

"The one where I made it clear that I want you. And I usually get what I want, _Harry_."

He would _not_ blush, no, not again. But who could blame his mind for reaching suggestive conclusions in a position like _this_? And he still pronounced his name in that _voice_.

"You can't force someone into your group remember?"

"I won't have to force you," he smirked, "you will want to join soon enough."

"Wha-…And why would I want to join a lord who threatened to kill me at least 3 times in one hour?"

"Because you know I'm the only one who can properly use you."

Harry tried to ignore the truth in this statement for the sake of his own sanity.

"I'm not a tool at your disposal!"

"Indeed. You're not at my disposal. Not yet."

"What the fu-"

"Now, I'm afraid I have demanded your presence long enough. You look as if that rumoured brain of yours could use some time to think."

He grabbed Harry's arm and dragged the furious young man to the door.

"You're kicking me out? Now?"

"I didn't realise you came to like me."

Harry ignored him. "What about Dumbledore?"

"I will contact you soon enough. For the moment he will be too busy trying to figure out why I didn't kill you. That should occupy him for a while. It would be best if you tried to stay away from phoenix members."

"That's about half of the town!" protested Harry.

"It won't be for long. We will have to be prepared fast. And I would like to test you."

"Test me? About what?"

The lord looked at him smugly. "Whether you live up to my expectations of course. I will give you the details later."

He opened the door and manhandled Harry out of the room.

"I told you I don't wish to join you! Hell, I don't even know your name yet!"

The lord paused and looked at Harry with an uncertainty in his eyes that Harry wouldn't have thought possible. As if he was arguing with himself over something.

"It's Tom. Tom Riddle" he finally said.

"Tom," Harry said testing, slightly taken aback by the civil answer.

"Do _not_ call me that, ever," Tom hissed.

"Huh? You call me Harry!" he protested.

"I can call you whatever pleases me."

"Wha-"

"Just…Don't call me that." The genuine tone in his voice was all it took for Harry's anger to evaporate. The mood swings of the man really confused Harry.

"Fine, err, Riddle?" he tried.

When he got no reaction he thought that was about as good as it could get. Riddle it was; fitting too, for the man.

Harry wondered if it was his real name; official documents had lost all their value after the collapse and you could name yourself whatever you wanted. Some people held on to their birth names in order to not lose themselves completely, others invented a new name along with their personalities; after the chaos no one was quite the same as before.

Harry wished briefly he had done the same and not used the name on his birth certificate; after all he seemed to be in this mess because of it.

"Try checking your mailbox next time, Harry. Oh and please wash yourself before you come here again, I want to see what's under all that grease."

Harry wanted to retort that honest work was dirty, unlike ordering people around as a lord, but he found himself staring at a closed door. That bastard just shut the freaking door in his face! He really needed a new word for him; bastard just wasn't strong enough.

Grumpily he began to walk back downstairs. He really needed to sleep, all that anger and confusion he felt while being with Riddle was exhausting.

"I told you Avery, he wanted the kid alive to kill him himself!"

Harry looked down and saw the familiar faces of his kidnappers, as well as Bellatrix, huddled together and whispering agitated to each other. At least Harry thought they were trying to whisper; they were obviously slightly drunk and what seemed to them like a low whisper was in fact them talking normally.

"But he usually lets us watch! I so wanted to see it!" whined Bellatrix, "you think he lets me have the body afterwards?"

"Sorry Bellatrix, no body for you," Harry interrupted crossly, feeling more than a bit sick after hearing her words.

The reactions of the startled group cheered him up a bit though.

"You're still alive," Bellatrix stated disappointed. Her eyes moved down to Harry's neck, where Harry knew the marks of Riddle's hands were beginning to form.

"For now," she grinned wickedly.

"Or so I heard," huffed Harry. Then out of a whim he asked, "What's his name anyway?"

Bellatrix gaped at him. "You…! How did you address his lordship up there?!" she screeched. "It's Lord Voldemort, majestic isn't it?" she added dreamily.

"Voldemort?" Harry asked baffled. Since a lot of people from different countries ended up in London over the years he picked up some French. Flight of death? For real now, Riddle?

"No, I meant his real name."

Bellatrix threw him a withering look. "It's _Lord_ Voldemort for you, and no one knows his real name. And don't you dare ask him! The last one who was stupid enough to do that didn't turn up again, didn't he Avery?"

The one called Avery nodded his head while trying to drink, and ended up spilling the liquor everywhere on himself.

Harry pondered about the fact why Riddle apparently introduced himself with a name that none of his followers knew. He decided to think about it next morning after having a nice long rest. And about his past, or that Dumbledore wanted to kill him, or that Remus and Sirius just might have to fight against him, or the fact that following Riddle seemed less appalling than any other lord he met. Which was probably the most disturbing thought out of the lot.

Without a second glance at Bellatrix he left the inn. He heard her calling after him but he didn't think he could bear anymore for tonight and closed the front door firmly behind him.

It was late, or early in the morning more precisely. The air was chilly and it looked as if it would rain soon.

He hurried home and only after he closed his own door behind him, did he feel some of the tension leave him. Tired he moved through his workshop, only thinking about his nice warm bed, when something on the floor made him stop dead in his tracks.

He had forgotten all about the man who was slowly bleeding to death in his shop. It seemed he had wanted to crawl out of the building but he didn't get far. His leg lay not far from him, and a big pool of blood covered a good bit of Harry's floor.

Just freaking great.

Riddle would hear of this; and he would pay for it, Harry swore to himself.

.


	4. Chapter 4

Basic psychology implied that if you spend your morning already in a miserable state of mind, your day won't get any better.

It was going to be an awful day.

Harry had not slept nearly enough, because he spent the little time he had left after Riddle's oh-so-nice invitation disposing a mutilated body.  
What he did first thing on this wonderful morning? Cleaning a dry pool of blood in his workshop. Not Harry's favourite pastime either.

He decided to stay at home for today and only serve customers who came directly to his shop. All errands could wait, he intended to stay away from Riddle or his followers...or group phoenix for that matter.

Riddle. Dumbledore. His precious few friends. His future.

Harry scrubbed the floor angrily. He knew lord Voldemort's appearance was not the actual cause of his problems, but he couldn't help the anger that coursed through his veins when he thought about how Riddle destroyed any hope of a peaceful life within a few hours. Or rather the new knowledge that Riddle brought with him.

The strongest lord in the city was trying to kill Harry and for some bizarre reason he had waited for years to do it.  
Even if Harry joined Riddle, could a new lord really provide enough protection against a man who controlled the strongest and largest group, potentially not only in London, but whole Britain?

Who knew what was happening in this country? News travelled slower than groups were formed or disbanded. Group phoenix had been there right from the beginning and has been steadily growing since then. It was very well possible for them to be the oldest and thus most experienced group in the history of this new society.

Harry sighed half exhausted, half irritated. For now, his best bet was to trust Riddle that Dumbledore would not make his next move in the near future. And Harry didn't like trusting Riddle one bit.

He looked down on his floor. Luckily only his living space and the shop in the front had wooden floor, the rest was plain stone. The blood came off completely, leaving Harry only with a bloodied cloth and stained hands.

The bell above his front door clattered and Harry tried to look past the shelves to see who entered. The shop was empty. Harry walked warily past the shelves and came to a stop behind his counter. Still no sign of a customer.

"Hello?" he asked the empty room.

"Is that _blood_?!" squeaked an indignant voice from _below_ Harry's eyesight.

Harry looked down and froze.

It was a child. A child! All alone in his bloody workshop. That was impossible! Where were his protectors? His group, his parents, his lord, _anyone_?

A child never was left alone without strict protection. They were the most precious things a group had; and their weakest points. They were better guarded than their lords for fuck's sake, what was it doing here? And what on earth should he do? He hadn't seen a child for years; no one knew how many children a group had, they were often kept inside. Harry couldn't remember talking to one even once in his life, since he was always surrounded by people who were at least 10 years older than him.

"Daddy told me people who are gaping are idiots. Are you an idiot? You look like one."

It was a boy, at least that much was clear. A slender boy with an aristocratic face and bright blond hair. The proportions were all in order but he was so _small_. He barely reached the height of his counter.

"Excuse me?" replied Harry shell-shocked.

The boy regarded him as if he was the dirt under his little shoes. Harry was confused. Weren't children supposed to be pure, innocent and kind-hearted and, well, nice?

"Well at least I now know you're not a threat. That's good. Daddy told me to run and hide somewhere safe in case of an emergency, so unless you don't want to die a _very_ painful death, you better protect me with your life, is that understood?"

Harry could have read a dozen books claiming how pure children were, in this very moment he decided that this boy was a complete and utter brat.

"And if _you_ don't want to die a very painful death, I suggest you do not touch anything and tell me where the hell your protectors are and what you are doing here." he hissed.

"You can't harm me!" yelled the boy and although his stance was defiant, his quivering voice betrayed his fear. "If-… If my father or-…or if my lord finds out about this then-!"

"Who is your father?" Harry interrupted.

"Lucius Malfoy. He was a great lord once! But he decided to follow the noble goal of another," the kid replied with obvious pride.

Harry groaned. A lord following another lord? "Please don't tell me you're from group Voldemort."

If anything, the child's chest swelled even more with pride. "If you dare to touch me, he will torture you to death, that's what he promised me."

"Lovely fellow," replied Harry dryly.

"But he will surely reward you if you were to help me," the kid added hastily.

"Help you? Shouldn't you be surrounded by protectors who could help you? What happened?"

The kid bit his lower lip and nervously began fiddling with the hem of his shirt. His eyes darted to the windows, as if to make sure no one was watching.

"We got ambushed," he whispered, "We were walking back to the inn when they came out of nowhere. Most of our men were already on the ground when Daddy made the secret sign that told me I have to run. So I did and ended up in here." His little face frowned with worry. "Do you think they will hurt my father?"

Harry sighed and swiftly walked to the window and closed the curtains. Then he opened the door and changed the 'open' sign to 'closed'. It hasn't even been 12 hours and he was already in trouble. _Again_ because of Riddle. That man could not possibly be good for him.

"Okay, was lord Voldemort with you?" he asked the child.

"N-No. He left the inn early this morning, I think. It was just my f-father and about 4 of our members."

The kid clearly was beginning to panic. It was obvious he tried hard to compose himself, but soft sobs shook his little body.

Harry was at a total loss. He wasn't good at comforting people, how was he supposed to comfort a child? He crouched down in front of him - with a good distance between them, mind you.

"Err, look… What's your name? Your first name I mean."

The kid looked at him with watery grey eyes that seemed entirely too big for his small face.

"D-Draco. Draco Malfoy."

The simple question had the desired effect and pulled Draco's attention away from the attack.

"Okay Draco, I'm Harry Potter. I have, err… met your lord and survived the encounter, so I guess he doesn't see me as an enemy. How about I take you back to the inn to your group, hmm?"

And then he could kick Riddle's ass for leaving a dead man in his house and shove an unprotected child in after. But Draco didn't need to know that part.

Draco shook his head determined. "No. The sign means I have to run and hide and stay there. Only after the danger passed should I try to return or better wait until my group finds me."

"Did this happen before? You seem pretty sure of what to do."

"No, but Daddy made sure that I memorised the plan and I promised him I'll do exactly what he told me."

Harry sighed. "Okay but wouldn't it be safer if you were with your group?"

Damn! What if someone followed Draco and some group was just getting ready to storm his shop?

Draco could not be convinced. "I'll stay here and you'll protect me."  
He sounded very sure of himself and his grand plan. "And I'm hungry so you have to get me something to eat. And I want hot chocolate."

Harry snorted. "Are you sure you're not Voldemort's own kid? You certainly have his attitude."

He stood up and pondered on his options. He could tell Draco to stay hidden here and go to the tavern alone. There he could notify the group of what had happened. Or he could stay here with Draco and wait in hope none of the attackers followed him. And what if they came here? Should he fight? Let them take Draco and then go notify Riddle? Or should he tell no one, so nobody could blame him afterwards? Yeah that should work brilliant, as if Riddle wouldn't notice his guilt immediately next time they meet.

Fighting was only an option against a limited number of attackers. Harry had some nice traps he could activate in his front yard that should give them some protection. The problem was that they couldn't distinguish a harmless customer from an attacker.

"Hello? I'm still hungry, go make me some food or I'll tell lord Voldemort that you mistreated me."

"Mistrea-… Hey! I'm helping you out here kiddo, how about some gratitude?"

Harry did not want to imagine Riddle's reaction if he somehow heard Harry mistreated his children. Even keeping Draco alone in his shop could probably get him killed. What if Draco's group found him here, after he went missing several hours ago? They would most likely kill him on the spot if there was any indication that Harry himself was the kidnapper.

"Gratitude? It's an honor I let you _speak_ to me!"

"Yeah right, as if I asked for it. Okay, you stay here and don't touch anything and I'll see what I can find. Then I'll set some traps up okay? Don't move!" he warned.

Harry walked back through the shelves to his living corner and scraped some food together. Hot chocolate; the kid was a spoiled brat. As if anyone would just have chocolate powder at home. A glass of plain milk would have to do, Harry hoped it wasn't already expired. The last thing he needed was a sick or injured kid.

He heard a loud yelp from the shop and rushed cursing to the front.

"What part of don't move did you not understand?!" he scolded.

Draco had stepped in a smaller version of the force field that already caught Sirius. Harry thought he had turned off the damned thing but obviously he was wrong. Now he had a _child_ several feet in the air and upside down in his workshop. Someone was going to kill him for that, he was sure of it.

"WHAT IS THIS? WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME?" yelled Draco with a loudness that Harry wouldn't have thought possible from such a small creature. And that could probably be heard several blocks away from here.

"O-Ooookay, clam down Draco, everything's fine!"

"FINE? FINE?! IF MY FATHER HEA-.."

"Shh! Quiet you imbecile!"

"DON'T TELL ME WHA-…"

"Look, you're…err…flying, right?" Harry said, desperate to shut him up before half London knew Draco was here. It was a ridiculous thing to say, but Draco shut his mouth and frowned.

"Flying?" he asked astounded.

"Flying," Harry nodded seriously, even though he had no idea what that would change for Draco.

Draco paused to think about that.

"Then why am I upside down?" he demanded suspiciously.

"Err, you erm… Well, it's your first try, right?"

Draco nodded slowly, what looked absolutely ridiculous in his position, but Harry was just relieved he actually seemed to believe him.

"How do I get down?"

"Err… You just think really hard about it," he answered slowly and moved to the small generator. "Got it?"

Draco nodded again, his face a mask of pure concentration. Harry turned the generator off behind his back and caught the now falling Draco.

Draco's face was flushed from being upside down but seemed otherwise unharmed. Harry thought he would sob again or yell at him or demanding to eat, instead Draco's face lit up excited.

"Can I try that again?"

Who would have thought? Now his inventions already served as toys for children, Harry wondered what came next.

Loud banging on the front door startled the two.

"Open up! Resistance is useless, we know a child is in there!"

"Shit!" Harry cursed and grabbed Draco by the arm. "Back door, come on!"

"We have the whole house surrounded! Give yourself up and we might not harm you!"

Might? Incredible convincing. Harry's mind rushed. The back door was useless, they would never make it out. Attack was their best option, even if they were probably only stalling time.

Harry went back behind the counter and activated one of the more harmful traps. The men standing too close to his house were instantly catapulted backwards by an invisible pressure wave. As if a huge explosion just happened inside the house, except there was only the shock wave, no explosion. Harry heard cursing and hectic shouting.

"Draco, tell me when they are advancing again."

Draco hurried to the window and peeked through the curtains.

"Awesome, some crashed into the other houses!" he bounced excited. "Do that again!"

"Tell me when they're near again."

He couldn't keep blasting them away, the power was only sufficient for three waves.

"Some others are coming! T-There are so many of them outside!"

Harry blasted them away once more and then activated some other mechanisms. Not as destructive, but maybe it was enough if he could somehow trap them and then get out.

"They aren't coming again, they are just standing there talking," informed Draco. "Wait! They are lighting torches and…a-and now they are putting them on things, like…like a crossbow."

"Fuck! Of all the things they could have-… Draco get away from the window!"

Draco stood frozen, staring with wide eyes through a slit in the curtains.

"Draco! Get down!" Harry yelled.

Draco's knees gave in and he crouched down just when an inflamed torch burst through the window. The curtains and a wooden shelve caught fire immediately.

"Oh gods, this isn't good. This is not good at all." Harry sprinted to Draco and seized him up by the waist.

"W-What are you doing?" asked Draco scared.

"We are getting out of here"

"But-…But they are out there!"

"Believe me, we are better off with them than inside here."

Harry burst through the door, Draco in his arms. Their attackers were momentarily stunned by their appearance. Surely they never thought their prey would come out after only one torch.

"ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?!" yelled Harry at them while crossing the front yard.

The idiots just gaped at his outburst. So did Draco.

"Put the fire out NOW!"

"Well, we are terribly sorry, but if you would have cooperated a bit quicker, this would not have been necessary," mocked the leader.

"Do you have ANY idea what's in there you fool? If you don't stop the fire then this whole neighbourhood will explode _, including_ you and your little gang!"

Confused, the man looked at the others. He turned back to Harry and opened his mouth when a loud explosion from inside the house stopped him. Luckily it was only something small or they would all be toast already.

"Put the fire out!" the leader yelled, and the others hurried to comply.

Harry watched not without satisfaction as about half of them got caught up in his traps. Although he was glad that the other half made it. There was not much time, something bigger could blow up all of them any second if they didn't hurry.

A bunch of them stayed back and surrounded Harry and Draco with guns, crossbows or bats in their hands.

"You're both coming with us to our lord. No tricks, or we'll have to harm you," warned the leader.

"And who is the great lord that abducts little kids?" spat Harry while one man tore Draco from his arms and another two grabbed his arms.

"Our lord is Fudge, and I'd show some respect if I were in your situation."

Harry groaned. Just his luck. Not only was Dumbledore after him, now he had managed to piss of his greatest rival. Fudge was always trying to go against Dumbledore. His group occupied a good part of London's outskirts. It was clear that the moment Dumbledore stopped being on full alert, was the moment Fudge would take over the city.

There were also recent rumours that Fudge planned to merge all the little groups in the city and then destroy group phoenix. He was a strong believer in the old society and rumour had it he wanted to establish a ministry and dissolve the groups. With him as the minister of course, as if there was any difference whether the city was run by a lord or a minister. He was certainly the second most powerful man in London and because of his beliefs in a ministry, he had not given a name to his group or himself.

The only question was: what did Fudge gain from kidnapping a child from a new group that only had a scouting party in town?

Like Voldemort's members, they put a bag over Harry's head so he couldn't see anymore where he was going. At least they left him conscious. Fools.

Even though he couldn't see, he still felt each turn they took and tracked their route on his mental map of London. As long as they let him walk on his own, he could retrace the path between his house and their no-longer-secret headquarter.

Harry's house was rather far away from the centre, so they didn't have to walk that long to reach the outskirts.  
After approximately 30 minutes Harry was led down a flight of stairs. The bag was removed from Harry's head and he could see where they were.

They were walking down a long corridor with no windows. Harry suspected the stairs had led them into some kind of underground building.

He also noticed two other peculiar things: The floor was flooded, so they stood ankle-deep in water, and they had electricity. Electricity wasn't that uncommon, since generating minimal power was quite easy but it wasn't possible to maintain the kind of network that could be used for a whole housing block, left alone a city. Harry was surprised they went through all the trouble to have an electricity network for their whole house. Then again, Fudge was most likely holding on to every piece of old order he could find.

"Fancy floor" remarked Harry.

The leader grumbled. "It leaked in last night. Damn that rain! We tried to soak it up but it just kept raining."  
He opened a door at the end of the corridor. "After you," he mocked over-politely.

Harry shot a look at Draco, who was still carried by a man but apparently unharmed, and entered.  
It appeared to be a kind of office, with a coach, armchairs, an old-fashioned sturdy wooden table and a fireplace.

A slightly podgy man with little hair sat behind the table. A bowler laid next to him on the table.

"Lord Fudge sir, we successfully captured the child. And also this err…" he looked uncertain to Harry, as if noticing him for the first time.

"We need the child alive but who might you be?" asked Fudge and eyed Harry up and down. "You can't possibly be his father, your faces are way too different." He looked Harry over a last time and then waved dismissively. "Kill him."

The men who had brought Harry and Draco here immediately raised their weapons and Harry's mind began racing. Fudge didn't know who he was and had no interest in him, only Draco. He had said he needed Draco alive, probably to put Riddle under pressure.

Harry decided that he was damned should he really die because of Riddle. A ludicrous plan took form in his brain. He straightened his spine and took on a self-assured, invulnerable stance.

"You have no idea who I am, don't you lord Fudge?" he sneered.

Curiously Fudge held up a hand and the men surrounding Harry stopped still.

"And who would that be?" he inquired.

Harry felt not nearly as confident as he pretended to be, but his life depended on the credibility of his act. He placed the very best imitation of the smug smirk, which haunted him since last night, on his face and took a calming breath.

"I am lord Voldemort."

.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

_"I am lord Voldemort."_

Aaand- there went his chance to remain neutral. Just Brilliant.

Draco made a half snorting, half choking sound, but luckily they ignored him.

"Lord Voldemort himself?" asked Fudge astounded. He looked as if he couldn't quite decide if Harry spoke the truth and if he did, how he should react. "I did hear you are very young for a lord, but I didn't imagine you'd be quite that young." He eyed Harry suspiciously.

"Did you kidnap me to discuss my age? And without knowing who I was, I might add. Your information about your prey is rather lacking," sneered Harry.

"You are in no position to be insulting. Look at the situation you are in; clearly your information is more lacking than mine!"

"Ah minister, no need to get so worked up. And yes, I know you'd prefer to be called minister, because you do not think much of the new system and rather run a ministry than a group. Quite an interesting perspective by the way."

Harry smiled sweetly at Fudge and leisurely strolled forward, completely ignoring the weapons that still pointed at him.

His heart was pounding madly and he could feel the panic lingering in his chest but he pushed it away and focused entirely on his act.

Draco was gaping at him, but otherwise made no inclination to take any action and Harry was very glad for it.

Harry came to a stop in front of Fudge's table, his posture carefully at ease. "I do so like men who have their own way of living you see, all the mindless sheep nowadays make me sick."

Harry had to stop himself from rolling his eyes when Fudge smiled back at him with obvious pride. Inflating the man's ego was way too easy, no wonder a manipulative bastard like Riddle or Dumbledore had so much power if even a powerful lord was so vain he couldn't tell a compliment and a manipulation apart.

"Anyway," he continued, "I think we both agree that with me being already here, we saved a lot of time-wasting messaging and can go straight to the point. Now minister, please tell me what you had in mind with my child?"

He wasn't smiling anymore. Instead he looked calmly into Fudge's eyes and saw with satisfaction how Fudge shifted uneasy in his seat. Fudge clearly had the upper hand here, but Harry's complete lack of fear made him nervous.

"Ah yes," Fudge cleared his throat and made a vague gesture to the armchair in front of his table, "Let's talk business."

"Thank you minister, but I prefer standing."

Harry almost laughed out loud when Fudge hastily stood up too, to level up to Harry.

The man might have a small army under him, but brute force was all he relied on. He wasn't made to rule, he didn't have the powerful presence a strong lord should have and if anything didn't go according to his well thought-out plan, he got completely thrown off course.

Fudge hadn't planned to meet lord Voldemort under these circumstances. Harry was pretty certain he had intended to use Draco to make Voldemort agree to whatever he wanted before they actually met.

Of course, with the right tactic he could still blackmail Voldemort, but he would have to do it face to face, and Fudge lacked exactly what Harry assumed was Riddle's strongest weapon; charisma. Fudge needed too much time to think, too much time to respond to new changes.

"Very well then, first let me ask you a question lord Voldemort. Do you plan on staying in London permanently?"

Harry frowned. "And why would that be of any importance?"

"Ah well, you would have to give up your old territory wouldn't you? No offence, but as a new group you can't possibly have enough men to occupy two posts…" Fudge gave him a meaningful look.

"What's your point minister?"

"Oh I'm sure living in the city has its benefits. No one could blame you for abandoning your old territory in the country. It's harsh living in the wild."

"I still fail to see your point minister."

Fudge sighed theatrically. "Well…I would have enough men. I'm certain we could find a... solution that benefits us both."

So he wanted Riddle's territory.

Harry's mind raced. The group was new, their territory couldn't possibly be big enough to attract Fudge's interest. It was also apparently somewhere in a remote area where living conditions were harsh. Why would Fudge risk a fight for it?

Harry was at a loss. He might have a clear enough impression about Riddle's character to imitate him but he had way too little information about Riddle's general involvement in politics.

"Now, now, don't look so gloomy! We don't have to fight. How about you just peacefully resettle your group here in town? I could even help you find-"

"NO!" cried Draco.

Both Fudge and Harry turned to him. Fudge huffed annoyed. "Stay out of this kid."

But Draco only looked at Harry. His big blue eyes staring intently at him, as if trying to send him a message.

"You won't get our water!" he finally yelled.

"Hush boy," chided Fudge.

But it was enough for Harry. Draco knew he didn't have any information whatsoever about their group and tried to help him. The boy either was cleverer than he let on or he was just afraid Harry actually might hand over lord Voldemort's territory to Fudge. As if anyone without a death wish would even consider that option.

Water. They had water. A spring perhaps. A never-ending resource of fresh, clean drinking water. No matter the size of their territory; they possessed transparent gold.

"If you insist on settling this affair peacefully, why don't we make a trading deal? One that does not involve giving up my land of course."

Now that Harry knew what Fudge was after, the smug mask slipped easy on his face.

Fudge looked anything but happy. "You don't seem to realise what situation you are in. I have you _and_ one of your children _and_ you only have a scouting party in town. Do you think _they_ will rescue you? A few men against a whole group?"

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but loud screaming outside their room interrupted him. In the hallway, noises of metal clashing could be heard and a few precious gunshots were fired.

"What the hell is it now?" spat Fudge.

A man barged into the room and hastily closed the door behind him.

"Minister! We are under attack sir!"

"Attack? By whom?"

"Er…well…b-by someone sir."

"What do you mean someone? Quit stuttering fool! How many are there?"

"O-one."

Fudge gaped at him, speechless.

Harry had no idea what was going on either but he calmly turned to face Fudge and smirked. "Sorry, you were saying something about a few men and a whole group?"

Fudge's face grew red. "Don't just stand there do something!" he yelled at his men.

About half of them hurried out while the other half took position in front of the door, ready to kill the intruder were he to come so far. Harry heard more yelling outside and this time it sounded as if it was right outside the door. Whoever was attacking was very skilled and already very close.

Suddenly it was quiet outside. The door opened once again, but this time slowly, with a long screeching sound. Then a round object flew into the room, and before anyone could react it landed directly at Fudge's feet. Harry half expected the thing to explode, until he saw it was hairy. It was a chopped off head. Undoubtedly one of the guards from outside.

While everyone stared dumbfounded at the head, Harry looked at the door to see who entered.

Tom Riddle looked _real_ in an abstract sense. Like his appearance finally matched his inner personality. He held a long, absurd thin sword that was dripping with blood and his arms were soaked too. Apart from that, he looked as if he arrived just in time for tea.

No one moved.

"Excuse the intrusion lord Fudge, but I believe you have something that belongs to me-…" His eyes fell on Harry and while his face remained unchanged his eyes widened in surprise. "Do you _like_ being abducted?"

"One of your men?" Fudge asked Harry, trembling from rage and fear.

Harry cleared his throat. He could feel Riddle staring at him, with his head tilted slightly to the side as if to ask: what's he talking about?

It wasn't that he evaded to meet Riddle's eyes… The blank wall next to him was just so much more interesting.

"And all alone too, is that a thing to do in your group?" Fudge went on. "Ah I see. You must be the father brave man, yes you kind of have the same cheekbones… The hair comes from the mother then? Your instinct to protect your son is commendable. Well come in, come in! Your lord is already here!"

Riddle looked at Fudge as if he doubted his sanity. Then his eyes darted from Draco, to Harry, and back to Fudge.

"Is he now?" he said slowly.

Harry and Draco were standing stiff, not doing or saying anything. Both were waiting for Voldemort's next step. Harry knew Fudge would kill him on the spot if it came out he fooled him. But a part of him also hoped Riddle would take over, at least then he would be spared the humiliation to _play_ in front of him.

Slowly a small grin crept on Riddle's face and he turned to Draco. "Are you alright, son?"

It was as if Draco had just been freed of a spell. As soon as it was clear that his lord would play the game, he slipped into his role.

"Daddy!" he cried and ran to Riddle's side.

A short moment he hesitated – he couldn't very well hug the man - then he settled for grabbing the hem of Riddle's shirt and smiled up to him. Riddle distraught patted his blonde hair, all the while staring smugly at Harry. His lips formed silently the words: your move.

Damn that man! Why did he always look as if he was enjoying himself immensely when Harry did anything? He felt as if Riddle studied him with the same amusement another person would observe a particular clumsy puppy.

And how could Fudge believe for one second that Harry was lord Voldemort, when the real man stood right next to him? Without the comparison, Harry's smug attitude might have fooled him, but anyone could feel the aura that surrounded Riddle. Hell, the guards didn't even attack him, as if they waited for his permission to kill him.

"Hmm, yes I can see why you would reward the man with a child, his fighting skills are extraordinary," mused Fudge.

"Oh not really." The statement slipped out of Harry's mouth before he realised it. Diminishing Riddle's abilities just came as a reflex. Riddle's eyebrows twitched warningly.

"Are you saying breaking in here alone is easy?" frowned Fudge.

"Apparently yes. He's nothing special, most of my men are as skilled as him," Harry bluffed.

As if that was possible. The lunatic just took on what? Ten, twenty men? With a sword that looked as if you could break it in half with bare hands. He tried to maintain an air of arrogance, but with Riddle staring at him he felt as small and insignificant as an ant.

"Really..." Fudge did not sound convinced at all. More like he finally managed to trap Harry.

"You're saying your small group can take on mine? Mine is only bested by group phoenix and they do not care for faire fight's I tell you. Is that your answer? Think carefully my dear lord Voldemort; I'm giving you a chance to resettle your group peacefully, no one has to die. However if you chose to resist me I swear I will crush you."

Fudge nodded to himself, proud of his unimaginative threats.

Harry stole a glance at Riddle. It was good Fudge only focused on Harry or he might have seen the sheer disgust in the real lord's eyes.

"No. I'm not saying my small group can take on yours," smiled Harry.

Riddle's eyes narrowed dangerously.

Fudge smiled warmly at Harry. "Very good! I'm glad we unde-"

"I'm saying my scouting party is more than sufficient," finished Harry sweetly.

Draco gaped at him as if Harry just lost his mind. Fudge started to laugh, but when he saw Harry's face he stopped, unsure.

"You…you can't be serious! Are you challenging me? Here? With less than half your group?"

There were two types of fights: One group either attacked the other directly in their territory and fought them until they gave up, or both groups agreed to a challenge.

A challenge was fought at a specified time on an arranged place. In a way a challenge was more honest, since both groups came prepared and no one was able to barricade themselves in their shelter. If a lord lost in a challenge, his territory belonged to the winner.

The problem? The fight took place within one week after the challenge was made. There was no way for Voldemort's group to get reinforcements from their headquarter. They would have to fight with a very limited number of men against a group that was known for brute force.

The other problem? It didn't matter that Harry wasn't really lord Voldemort. If Riddle didn't want to be known as a coward, he'd have to actually show up or no other group would ever trust his word again.

Fudge laughed again. "You are serious! Very well, you challenged me so I get to choose the exact time and place. Congratulations, you are free to go. But after your man killed a dozen of my guards, don't expect mercy. It won't matter if you give up during the fight, I'll wipe you out and present your head to the rest of your group when I take your territory."

"I'll be waiting for your letter," replied Harry, seemingly unaffected.

Inside he was trembling; not because he was afraid of Fudge, but of what Riddle would do to him the moment they got out of here.

Fudge took a half step back. Harry's lack of concern bewildered him.

"Draco, come on, let's get out of here."

And without even glancing in Riddle's direction, Harry left the room.

.

* * *

.

No one tried to stop them while they walked down the corridor. Riddle had known no mercy; they had to step over dozens of bloodied bodies.

Draco caught up to Harry and walked only centimetres behind him.

"You're so dead," Draco whispered maliciously.

Several steps behind them Harry could see Riddle grin.

"I know," he answered.

They reached the stairs and Draco passed Harry and ran up first.

"He likes you," commented Riddle from behind.

"Charming," replied Harry dryly and hurried out after Draco, not wanting to be alone with the lord in a hallway already full of men he killed so easily.

The rain had stopped but the sky was still covered in dark clouds and the streets were muddy.

Draco was already a few steps ahead and waited impatiently for them. The boy obviously wanted to check on his father as soon as possible.

"It's a pity I didn't arrive sooner." Riddle had reached the end of the stairs and was closing in on Harry. "I would have loved to see more of that."

His eyes never left Harry, but Harry obstinately kept on looking ahead.

When Harry stayed silent Riddle continued. "I'm curious, how did you make Fudge believe you were lord Voldemort? No offence but…you really don't look the part."

"Your arrogance precedes you," snorted Harry.

" _My_ arrogance?" Riddle was now walking side to side with Harry, their shoulders almost brushing. Like always the man didn't seem to grasp the concept of private space.

" _You_ just agreed on _my_ behalf to a challenge no group could possibly win." He took a large step and turned to block Harry's path. "You do have a plan don't you?"

"Err…" Harry shifted uneasy from one foot to the other. Now that Fudge wasn't here, all pretence of self-assurance was gone.

"How many of your men are in town?" he asked nonchalantly.

Riddle grabbed a handful of Harry's hair, yanked his head up and forced him to look into his eyes.

"Nineteen. _With_ Draco. And no one fights like me. So, you better start using that brain of yours and tell me you can come up with a strategy, or I swear you will _beg_ for death."

Harry shivered but said nothing.

"Or you could beg now for forgiveness, saying how wrong you were and how utterly ridiculous your notion was to impersonate me. Just so you know; for it to be effective, I expect you on your _knees_."

Anger boiled up in Harry and he knocked the other's hand away.

"Go to hell Riddle! How about _you_ explain to me why a completely unprotected child walked into my home, eh? Or why my workshop exploded because some dumbass lord is after your territory and kidnapped said child. Or how I ended up surrounded by men wanting to kill me for trying to protect the little rascal! Go on, explain! You may remain standing," he mocked.

He tried to walk past Riddle but got held back.

"Correction. We are eighteen, since one of my men got _killed_ walking in your home."

"They tried to kidnap me!"

"You didn't read your invitation."

"Why did you have to use a freaking letter?"

Riddle sighed annoyed. "Being young is a hindrance, you of all people should know that. If you want to be taken seriously as a young lord, you have to respect the old ways. Using precious paper as communication is more than an invitation, it's a message and it adds to you reputation."

"Why on earth would anyone think so far for a stupid invitation?" Harry huffed.

"Politics, _Harry,_ politics."

"Well, I'm no good at politics," grumbled Harry.

"No kidding," stated Riddle flatly.

"Are you coming already?" whined Draco.

"Why did you say he liked me?" wondered Harry aloud and they started walking again.

"He shows his affection with insults and demands," Riddle grinned, "You should be honoured; he even commented on your death."

Harry snorted. "Why are those mischievous little humans so important? They are nothing but trouble!"

"They are the real core of the groups. If this were a game of chess, the children are the kings. If you want to destroy a group you don't attack their lord, you kill their children. Kill the lord and a new one will rise. Kill the child and the group has lost an important reason to exist. Fudge promised no mercy. That means even if we have clearly lost, he will still kill Draco."

Harry watched Draco's blonde head bouncing from one side of the street to the other, looking back every few seconds to see if they were finally coming. Harry cursed his weak heart. Any sane man would pack his things and get the hell away from this mess.

"I can't let that happen now can I?" sighed Harry. "Fine, look… I'll figure something out but you have to tell me Fudge's choice of location as soon as possible."

He risked a glance at Riddle. "If you want to win this, it won't be what people generally call a fair fight."

Riddle smirked. "I don't care. As long as your wonder weapons don't break any rules, I won't hesitate to use them."

They reached a junction and Riddle took with Draco the left street.

"How did you find us? And why the hell would you come alone?" Harry shouted after them.

Riddle paused and turned back. "I have my sources. I told you: no one gets away with hurting one of my members. And I was more than enough."

Harry wondered how anyone could be so arrogant without pretending.

"One last question Riddle: If children are the real kings, what are the lords?"

In the distance, he could still see the dangerous smile on Riddle's lips.

"Isn't that obvious _Harry_? They are the players. After all, chess figures have to be told how to move."

And with that they disappeared around a corner and left a dumbstruck Harry Potter behind.

.


	6. Chapter 6

The first time Remus and Sirius found Harry unconscious on the floor, they thought he was dying.

His breath was shallow, his body cold and his heartbeat too slow for a sleeping person.

They tried everything to wake him. Yelling, water, slapping...nothing helped.

They wrapped him in the warmest blanket they could find and waited for his heart to stop. But it didn't. They waited for almost ten hours for something to happen, but Harry's condition neither got worse, nor was it getting any better. They examined him for any wounds but there was nothing. They looked through the house but nothing indicated what could have possibly caused it.

After almost twenty hours they lost to exhaustion and fell asleep. When the two awoke in the next morning, Harry was eating breakfast as if nothing had happened, assuring them that he felt completely normal.

His body temperature had recovered and his heartbeat was as strong as it should be. Everything was normal again, except his appetite. He ate _a lot_. Remus tried to ask him about it, but Harry claimed he was just a little bit more hungry than usual.

Glad that their friend was alright, Remus and Sirius gave him some of their food and left him alone.

The second time it happened, Sirius was visiting Harry alone. Even after recognising the same symptoms, Sirius still tried every imaginable thing to wake Harry, but without avail. This time Harry woke up only several hours after Sirius found him, but no one knew how long Harry had lied there alone. When Harry finally woke up, he told Sirius he was feeling fine, but very hungry.

It happened again. And again. And again.

When his friends became members of group phoenix, they talked their group physician into taking a good look at Harry. Madame Pomfrey was a former hospital nurse and a very kind women. She examined Harry as best as she could with the little equipment she had and with all her massive knowledge.  
She declared she was actually astounded at how healthy Harry seemed, given the circumstances of his upbringing.

It took them a long, long time to figure out what was causing Harry's blackout. Surprisingly it wasn't Harry who finally made the connection. It was Remus.

And it was also Remus who found him this afternoon, unconscious in the middle of his partly exploded workshop.

It hadn't happened for several months, which was unusual long. Remus tucked his younger friend into bed and looked at his peaceful sleeping face. He didn't bother anymore to try and wake him, he knew it was pointless. Harry's lips were blue, his hands cold as ice.

Remus smiled sadly. He couldn't decide whether he should be happy for Harry or concerned. All he knew was what he had to do to ensure Harry would be okay in the future.

Remus knew Harry wouldn't stay much longer in London. He had heard rumours about the new lord in town and his recent challenge against lord Fudge. A scouting party against a whole group. Completely crazy – and so very perfect for one peacefully sleeping young man in front of him. Perfect, but dangerous.

With one last look at Harry, Remus turned and left the half-ruined shop. It wasn't the first time the shop was almost destroyed. With all his ingenuity, Harry couldn't possibly prevent every accident. The destruction was not an unfamiliar sight - the havoc outside was. Trees and bushes had been blasted away. There were footprints of at least three dozen men in Harry's front yard and Remus even saw some blood on the adjacent houses.

Over the past few months, Remus had felt a strange tension rising in town. When he had found Harry unconscious again after the unusual long absence of his blackouts, Remus had known that whatever was bound to happen, it had begun.

He met a few phoenix members on his way, but only greeted them half-heartedly. His attention was focused on his goal.

Several minutes later he reached the local inn. Remus paused. He knew what he was about to do violated almost every feeble law the new group-based society had established so far. Not to mention Harry would throw a fit if he found out. What he certainly would, being the little genius he was. And if the rumours about lord Voldemort were true, it was also not really the safest thing to do.

Remus took a deep breath and entered.

* * *

"Remus!" Old Tom smiled when he saw him. "What brings you here so early?"

The bartender and Remus got along well. Sirius often dragged him away from work in the evenings and went to the inn with a group of their friends. After a few hours, Remus remained the only person sober enough to keep up with a decent conversation. In the middle of drunk men from different groups, old Tom always appreciated the company.

"Some personal business."

"Business?" Tom frowned and lowered his voice. "You know a foreign scouting party is currently residing here, right? Have you heard about the challenge? They are crazy I tell you. A lone phoenix member shouldn't be doing business here Remus. As long as they are here, I can't guarantee a neutral zone, you knew that."

Remus' eyes fell on the foreign members across the room. A little group sat among a table, discussing loudly and insulting each other in every second sentence. In the corner sat a man completely clothed in black robes, quietly reading a book while a blonde women seemed to sew tattered clothes a few tables next to him.

They were a random bunch of people. Usually members of the same group could be put into a certain category, but these simply didn't seem to belong together. To restrain such different personalities from clashing with another, their lord had to be exceptional. But Remus already knew that.

"It's fine Tom. I told you; it's personal. Actually, I was hoping to meet this new lord here. Is he around?"

"What could you possibly want with lord Voldemort on a _personal_ basis?"

Remus smiled. "Do you really want to know?"

Tom scratched his head. "No, better not, you're right of course. He should be upstairs in his room, the one where the rain doesn't leak in… Just be careful, he has a bit of a temper I heard. I think young Harry got in trouble the other night, I wouldn't want to be in the room if these two got together." Tom shuddered.

Interested, Remus leaned forward. He hadn't had the chance to speak with Harry about that night. Although he'd heard quite the stories from a friend who was also invited.

"Why'd you think so?"

Tom glanced around the room. "Just a feeling old friend. I could swear it's in their eyes. This lord Voldemort fellow? There's a fire in him that isn't healthy. And I'm afraid our dear Harry has the spark that could ignite said fire into a burning hell."

Tom shuddered again. "Just be careful 'kay?"

Remus nodded and headed for the stairs. Tom's description assured him even more that he was right. After years of trying, Sirius and Remus finally had found a lord that suited Harry. Whether it was a match made in heaven or hell was something only the future would show.

Old Tom had managed to rebuild about half of the rooms of the inn. But the roof was old and rotten, so that the rain found small cracks to get in almost every room. There was only one room that was completely intact. Tom called it 'the suite', even though it was a rather small room.

Remus knocked.

"Enter," came the muffled command from behind the door.

Remus took another deep breath and went inside.

The lord was alone, sitting comfortably in an armchair with a pile of books on the small table in front of him.

The first thing Remus noticed were his eyes.

' _I could swear it's in their eyes.'_

He had the same look as Harry. Maybe a bit more arrogant, fiercer and ambitious, but the same nonetheless. Intelligent, assessing, sharp, _awake_. Remus wondered if going through the chaos alone as child was what gave them the look.

Lord Voldemort seemed genuinely surprised to see him. "And what brings phoenix' ambassador to me? Remus Lupin, was it?"

"Your information is remarkable, if you can identify me that fast."

Voldemort only smiled sweetly. Remus almost believed it was a true smile. Almost.

"Lord Dumbledore doesn't know I'm here," he began.

Voldemort raised an eyebrow but didn't interrupt. Remus decided to come straight to the point. Lord Voldemort didn't seem to have much patience for beating around the bush.

"There's something you should know about Harry."

Voldemort kept his face blank and faked ignorance. "Harry..?"

"...Potter. I'm sure you've met. Small, young, brilliant mind, covered in grease, always gets in trouble and blasts himself up on a daily basis?"

The lord chuckled. "Ah _that_ Harry, yes. Caught him running around with one of my children..." Voldemort glanced mischievously up to Remus. "Among other things."

Remus noticed not without relief that lord Voldemort seemed to be in a good mood.

He sighed exasperated. "He's a handful isn't he?"

He knew he got on the lord's good side when Voldemort laughed out loud. "You have no idea."

He gestured for him to sit and Remus complied.

"You're close to him then? Even though you are in phoenix?"

Remus narrowed his eyes. "We've been friends since before I joined group phoenix. There's nothing that could change my feelings."

"A man of loyalty, I see. Admirable but…it doesn't quite match with your current location does it?"

"Let that be my concern lord Voldemort. I believe it's in both our interest to see Harry safe and sound, that's why I'm here. I'll deal with my group later."

Voldemort leaned back and regarded him with an unreadable look.

"I can understand your feelings toward your friends Mr Lupin. But you are talking to the wrong man. I'm afraid Harry has made it quite clear that he has no intention to join me."

Lupin snorted. "And we both know he'll change his mind, even if we arrived for different reason to the same conclusion."

The lord tilted his head. "Oh? I'm intrigued, what is _your_ reason?"

"He blacked out," responded Remus and was rewarded with a confused look on the otherwise so smug face.

.

* * *

.

When Harry woke up he felt like shit. His head hurt, his heart was racing and his stomach seemed to be trying to eat itself. The hunger was overpowering and Harry moaned in pain.

So it had happened yet again. After all this months he had almost been sure he could just live his life peacefully and stay away from his blackouts.

The fact that he was lying comfortably in bed and not on the cold stone floor meant that one of his friends had found him. Since Sirius and Remus were the only ones that knew about his blackouts, it could have only been one of them. What ran through their heads when they had found him unconscious after all this time?

Despite his pain, Harry didn't waste any time and stood up. He grabbed as much food as he could carry and left his home, to visit Remus and Sirius and thank them for looking out for him once again.

The last thing Harry thought before storming out of the busted door was that it was all Riddle's fault.

.

* * *

.

"Pardon?" asked Voldemort, as if he hadn't heard right.

"He blacked out," repeated Remus. The lord just looked at him perplexed. Remus sighed.

"He has this…condition," he began a bit unsure. Harry would kill him for this.

"He seemed to be in perfect health two days ago."

"He's not sick. It's…difficult to explain. I have never seen or heard anything like it. Since I met Harry, he would eventually have these episodes where he would pass out for several hours or even several days. At first we thought he had amnesia or something alike. We had him examined but physically he is perfectly fit. It's his brain. You have met him, but I don't think he would show you what he can do on your first meeting. He is brilliant you know. It's not just a rumour. Actually the rumour doesn't even cut it. I know it doesn't seem so when you speak to him. He's downright awkward in most human interactions. He's not interested in anything social at all, and certainly not in politics. But I've seen him do things with his mind that I wouldn't have thought possible."

Voldemort looked at him oddly. "You do realise I'm most certainly not backing off after you praise him so much?"

"I don't want you to back off. God knows how long I've been trying to find someone who could handle him."

The lord grinned approvingly and nodded for Remus to continue.

"His ingenuity comes with a price. His mind can focus on a problem so completely that he forgets everything else. Everything. I've seen him once in that state, I didn't yet know it was the reason for his blackouts but it scared me nonetheless. It was as if he was in a trance. He blocked out everything else and was scribbling notes and calculations on everything he could find like a madman. But this intense focus isn't the real problem. Honestly I can't explain what the exact cause is either but…it's like his brain uses up all his energy. As if every ounce of stored sugar and fat is used to provide enough energy for his brain to go into overdrive. Even his body heat drops dangerously. And even when his whole body screams for sleep and food to restore his reserves, he doesn't even realise it and keeps on thinking about the problem. He only stops when he finds the solution…And by then his body is so worn out that he simply blacks out. "

Voldemort folded his hands under his chin and considered his words.

"Are we talking about problems concerning a mathematical formula or maybe a particular complex construction? Or do you mean problems in general, like a decision in life and everyday worries?"

"Both. If something catches his interest, his brain will start working faster and longer than humanly possible."

"So, to solve problems no one else could, his brain exhausts his whole body and he passes out for several hours. I can see it is quite an extraordinary condition and I can understand your general concern, but without wanting to be rude…it's not such a big problem isn't it? I mean, it's nothing food and sleep couldn't cure."

Remus vividly shook his head. "No, you don't understand. He _can't_ stop thinking, no matter how long it will take. He doesn't pass out because he overworks himself like normal people might. He will stay focused until the second his problem is solved. He _has_ to find the solution before he collapses from exhaustion."

Voldemort frowned in thought. "But at one point the body simply won't be able to sustain-…"

Realisation dawned on his face as he looked up into Remus' eyes.

"If he is confronted with a problem that can't be solved…If _I_ order him to invent something that simply isn't possible…If I ask for too much…"

"He'll die."

.

* * *

.

"Remus! Sirius! Anyone at home?"

Harry had arrived at his friend's home and was banging at their front door. He heard muffled footsteps and moments later, Sirius opened the door. His face lit up at the sight of Harry.

"Hey Harry! You-…look awful."

"Thanks."

"No seriously, you look like a ghost! Hurry, come in and sit down, it happened again didn't it?"

Sirius was already putting some food on a plate while Harry wobbled to a kitchen chair.

"I've already eaten Sirius," cringed Harry. He didn't like it when his friends had to give up precious food for him when he couldn't give them something in return.

"Yeah, as if that would ever be enough. Here you go."

He put the plate down in front of Harry who couldn't resist the urge to dig in.

"So…" Sirius began while watching him eat like a starved dog. "Why now? I mean, after all those quiet months..?"

"How should I know," grumbled Harry in between two mouth full.

"Aw come on! Something unusual must have-…Aha! Hey, what are your thoughts about that new lord?"

"He's crazy."

Sirius laughed. It was loud and warm. He laughed often and Harry liked it. When it wasn't used to make fun of him that is…

"You like him don't you? Remus was right after all! Come on- say you like him."

"Stop it!"

"Aw don't be such a tease, out with it I say!"

Unnerved, Harry rolled his eyes. "Better you tell me where Remus is. He must have found me, I want to thank him for getting me into bed."

"Hmm, I don't know why he would just leave you there… I haven't seen him since he left about an hour ago. I guess I could ask for him in the headquarters."

Harry stood up and wiped his mouth. "Thanks Sirius, I'll see if I run into him on the streets."

"Woah! Where do you think you're going? You have to lie down Harry! Hey! Listen to me you little-..! Harry!"

But Harry was already out of the door and winked at him over the shoulders.

With his stomach full and his strength slowly returning, Harry was feeling better every second. He didn't really had a goal as he walked down the streets, but he was looking out for phoenix members who might have seen Remus.

"Yo Harry!"

Stanley Shunpike waved at him from the other side of the street. He wasn't really the cleverest member of group phoenix, and Harry wondered if that's why Stanley didn't seem to know he should keep his distance from other groups' members. And non-members like Harry.

"Hi Stanley," smiled Harry, "did you happen to meet Remus?"

"Lupin?" Stanley frowned in concentration. "Ah yeah I think so. He didn't really saw me though. He seemed to be deep in thoughts or something."

"Do you know where he went?"

"Nah, but he was walking down that road over there." He pointed to it.

Harry's stomach began to hurt again. This time not from hunger, but from worry. The only place worth visiting down that road was the inn. And the only reason why Remus would go to the inn in the middle of the day was…

"Riddle."

"Huh, what?" Stanley looked confused.

"Nothing. Thanks Stanley, have a nice day!"

Harry began to run. Dreadful scenes were playing in his head. If that bastard did _anything_ to his friend…He would personally go to Fudge and make sure Riddle would not live at the end of the week.

.

* * *

.

"That boy really is trouble," gritted Voldemort. He was standing in front of the window, his back to Remus who was still sitting in the armchair.

"How should I possibly know how far I can push him?"

"You'll know," Remus insisted. "I can feel it. If you can't handle him then I don't know who will."

Lord Voldemort turned. "All that, however, doesn't explain why Harry would possibly want to join me. As far as I can see, it would be healthier for him to stay away from group politics and its many problems."

Remus smiled sadly. "I wouldn't be so sure about that milord. You see, Harry hasn't had a blackout for over half a year now."

"So…That's good right?"

"Not if you consume riddles like normal people eat food. There's a reason Harry has taken a liking to inventing new things; he has to occupy his mind or he'll get so bored, he wouldn't see any reason to live on. It puts his life in danger, yes, but he also needs it. Over the last few months he has distanced himself from everything. He lived like a rabbit in his hole. That's not living, it's simply existing."

He looked up at Voldemort. "He needs you. He needs someone who can put his hyperactive brain to use. And you've already done it. I don't know what is going on, but I know you are the reason why he had a new blackout. You are already occupying his mind."

The lord smirked and below his hooded eyes, Remus saw a fire getting bigger and bigger.

"You can leave him to me Mr Lupin. I assure you, I won't stop until I am all he can think of."

.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry all but flew through the inn's door.

He had run all the way down the road – it just had to be a long one – and only now began to realise how out of shape he was.

He turned to the person closest to him, who happened to be that crazy woman Bellatrix. Of course.

"Where is he?" he wheezed.

"Oh, look who's come back to me! Come and play with me dearie, I haven't had the chance to properly greet you last time," she cackled madly.

"Wher-… Oh forget it!"

Harry headed directly to the stairs. He didn't have the nerves to put up with Bellatrix right now. Not if he hadn't made sure Riddle wasn't harming Remus in any way.

He sprinted up to the second floor and was already shouting before he burst through the door where he had talked with Riddle last time.

"You bastard better keep your hands off o-…err-"

He froze in the doorway. Remus and Riddle were sitting leisurely in the two armchairs, both with tea in their hands and in the middle of playing chess. After the hellish pictures of what the sadistic lord might be doing to his friend, the scene seemed downright bizarre.

They both looked amused by Harry's forceful entrance. On the chessboard were still quite a few figures, indicating that they hadn't played for long. Harry couldn't help but notice that Remus was losing bitterly.

"Ah Mr Potter, so good of you to stop by! Care to join us?" taunted Riddle.

Harry shook himself out of his shock and closed the door slowly behind him. He warily kept his eyes on Riddle, though.

"In a game that is already lost? No thank you."

"I'm losing already?" smiled Remus lightly and scratched his head distraught.

"In three moves."

"Not if he moves that pawn," interrupted Riddle.

"I know him, he'll go with the tower," countered Harry.

"But then he could use his horse."

"By then your queen would be right there."

They stared at each other intently, an unspoken challenge between them.

Remus cleared his throat. "Erm, yeah…I really should get going. It was a pleasure meeting you lord Voldemort."

"Likewise."

They shook hands and Harry had the sinking feeling that he had just missed an important conversation.

"What were you doing here in the first place?" he asked his friend suspiciously.

"Politics Harry. You know, that thing you always found boring."

"You shouldn't have come here alone!"

Remus looked at him amused. "I was in good hands Harry."

Harry snorted doubtfully and saw Riddle raise an eyebrow. He began walking after Remus, when a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"And where do you think you are going _Harry_?"

"Back home," he replied nonchalantly, without looking back at Riddle.

"Without telling me your fabulous plan? I don't think so."

Harry faked ignorance. "Hmm? Plan, what plan? You have to give me some time to think Riddle."

"Ah but you found a solution, did you not? After all…You are _alive_."

Harry spun around shocked. There was absolutely no way he could have known about his condition. That just couldn't be…could it?

"Remus?!" he shouted, still facing Riddle.

"Have fun!" came the muffled response from below.

Harry stood there shocked, looking at Riddle's smug face. Then his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Excuse me for a second, I have to go kill my friend."

Riddle only grinned at him. "Unfortunately, I am rather fond of him."

Harry shot him his best death glare and tried to walk out again, but Voldemort was faster, he quickly locked the door and put the key in his trousers.

"Not before you tell me how to get out of this mess that _you_ made."

"I'm sorry, but I only tolerate your face once every 24 hours so I'll have that key now."

"The last time we saw each other was more than 24 hours ago, so your statement is invalid."

"We met just yesterday! Draco, you and a pile of bodies, remember?"

Riddle looked at him oddly.

"What?" hissed Harry.

"That was two days ago, not yesterday," explained Riddle slowly.

Damn, so he was out for a full day? Harry cursed silently. No wonder he had felt like shit.

"It's all your fault," he muttered accusingly.

"Maybe. But there was also this _genius_ who decided it was a good idea to fight with a dozen men against a whole group."

"Seems legit," shrugged Harry.

He let himself fall down in an armchair and tried to look comfortable while he felt the familiar nervousness return. Why was it so hard to have a normal conversation with this man?  
Riddle gracefully sat down opposite from him and sipped at his tea.

"So…" he began and stared at Harry.

"So," repeated Harry, purposely ignoring the demand to start talking.

"Your neck is almost healed," remarked Riddle and glanced down at the bluish mark on Harry's throat.

Harry gulped at the memory of Riddle's hands on his throat, squishing the air out of his body.

"Your sword…" he deflected hastily, "why is it so thin?"

Red eyes studied him before apparently deciding to let it go. "It suits me better than a normal sword. The weight prevented me from using quick attacks."

"It looks as if I can break it in two with bare hands," Harry continued, intrigued by the unfamiliar design.

"The smith told me it was made from special material."

"What material?" Harry asked immediately.

Riddle seemed amused at his eagerness. "I didn't bother asking. It suits me, so I use it. I don't have to understand how it works as long as it works exactly like I want."

Harry groaned disgruntled. Then a wicked gleam entered his eyes. "What's the point in explaining my plan then? You don't want to understand it after all."

"I don't have to understand the tool I'm using, but I still need to know what exactly I'll be using. So you better open that pretty mouth of yours and start talking, or I will _make_ you talk."

Harry sighed. He knew he couldn't evade the topic much longer. Damn Remus for telling him! Now Riddle would always know when Harry had worked something out.

"It was ridiculous easy to be honest. I can't believe it took me two days to figure it out, I must be getting rusty."

"Rusty," deadpanned Riddle, "You worked out a plan to defeat a well-known group with a small scouting party and you call that _rusty_? Well, well, well. Crossing the country was beneficial after all."

Oops, did he just gloat in front of Riddle? Harry was still reluctant to help lord Voldemort but he couldn't help feeling a bit giddy at the prospect of talking about the plan. He always liked talking about his ideas and inventions, but he could tell Sirius and Remus just let him talk without really listening. To explain something Riddle couldn't have thought of himself gave Harry a strange feeling of power.

"Will I be able to hear that rusty plan anytime soon or do you plan to spend the rest of the day in here?"

Harry had to stop himself from gaping. It was faint, but there was definitely anticipation in Riddle's voice. He tried to sound impatient, like a man with a lot to do might be, but it was definitely a sort of anticipation you had when reading a good book and couldn't wait to read the end. He _wanted_ to know. Seeing the ever graceful and cool man lose his composure was exhilarating. Harry wondered if he could hold off his explanation for just a bit longer and watch his composure slip a bit more-…

"Potter," growled Riddle warningly.

"Okay, okay! Well, basically I will use a mixture of Methyl-tert-butoxycarbonyl-prolinate and Phenylmagnesiumbro-…"

"POTTER!"

Riddle had jumped up and looked ready to kill someone – unfortunately there was only Harry in the room. Harry still vividly remembered the last time Riddle moved as fast as that and his flight instinct kicked in. Hastily he scrambled out of his chair and away from Riddle. He made a mental note that making Riddle lose his composure was _not_ a good idea.

"Alright, fine, I get it - _stay_ where you are!"

They began circling around the two armchairs and the small table.

"Don't _ever_ test my patience child," Riddle whispered lowly.

Harry noticed with wonder that his own body was trembling slightly. All his attention was focused on Riddle, if the man only flexed a muscle, he flinched like a frightened deer.

"Would you stop walking?" he asked slightly panicked as Riddle started to go faster around the chairs.

"How about you stop first?" dared Riddle, knowing full well that Harry wouldn't.

Harry knew they would start running every second now and he didn't have to be a genius to guess who would win that race. Slightly out of breath from the quick pace, he decided to divert Riddle's attention by continuing.

"I got the idea from your name actually."

"Riddle?" he asked suspiciously, not slowing his steps at all.

"No, Voldemort. Flight of Death. It got me thinking… We aren't able to see death, right? Only the result of it."

Riddle slowed down ever so slightly. "Go on."

"Well, so I thought about how to achieve death, without really fighting."

"I'm beginning to like where this is going. Continue."

"I came to the conclusion that it wasn't quite possible."

"Pott-.."

"No, no, wait! It isn't possible without fighting at all but then I cut myself and-…"

Riddle looked at him incredulously. "Are you even _trying_ to make sense?"

"You don't understand, I painted it! Err, I mean, I lost the knife because it was invisible."

Riddle paused to consider this. "You want to make us invisible?"

An invisible Riddle was the last thing Harry wanted, but he found the prospect of dumping a bucket of stinking paint all over him rather pleasing.

"I looked up the rules for a group challenge. No group has to state how many members will participate in the fight, nor do they have to be assembled at any point in time. The rule is that all members who will participate have to be in the agreed fighting zone – there is no indication that all of them have to be visible. The two lords have to be present and signal the start of the fight, that's all."

"We make Fudge believe there is only the lord present," mused Riddle.

"Exactly! Give him some crap about not wanting the members to be killed or something."

"He'll be suspicious. Probably thinking we set up some traps."

"It is not allowed to build or change anything within the zone before the challenge. You can let him check the ground, there will be no traps. Everyone of Fudge's men will focus on killing the lord, because there is no other target on the field. All your men have to do is kill them silently while their focus is on the lord. When they finally start noticing their men are falling for no reason at all, it will already be too late."

Riddle smirked satisfied. "My, _Harry_ , I didn't take you for the sneaking type."

Harry shot him a mischievous look. "I told you it wouldn't be considered a fair fight."

"Hmm…You do realise Fudge still believes you are the lord thus expecting _you_ to show up? And that a whole group will try to kill you while we take them out?"

Harry grimaced. "Yeah, that's a bit of a problem. I build a sort of shield that can encapsulate me completely and protect me from their physical attack, but it has two major disadvantages."

"Which would be?"

"The more force they use, the more energy it will take. The time the shield will hold is limited to a few minutes at best. If your group hasn't stopped the fight until then…"

"Let that be my problem. If they really can't see us, we won't need more than a minute. What's the second problem?"

Harry scratched his head embarrassed. He hated when one of his inventions wasn't without faults. "I couldn't build it to stop attacks without deflecting them. If they use bullets, which I'm sure they will, they will rebound and fly across the field with the same deadly speed they hit me."

Riddle seemed to contemplate this threat and began again to walk slowly towards Harry. Since he didn't have the murderous look on his face anymore, Harry resisted the urge to run away.

"Why can't you just build more of this shields for each of us?"

"Technically, I could. But I would need more time than the few days we have left. Some pieces of it are hard to make and the energy that has to be stored in it is impossible to generate on such short notice. Plus I will already be busy gathering enough mixture to make the whole invisible act work…"

He trailed off uncertainly as Riddle was once again invading his personal space. He refused to take a step back like a frightened child and tried to look unbothered while he inwardly cringed under Riddle's scrutinising stare.

"You know…I had my doubts at first but I'm actually beginning to believe that you are indeed the last piece I need to achieve my goals."

"Really? And what pray tell are your goals? Taking over whole Britain?" he joked.

"Oh no, _Harry_ , not Britain," chuckled Riddle. He suddenly grabbed Harry's chin tightly and forced their faces nearer. Harry felt his cheeks become hot and his heartbeat sped up, while a cold shiver ran down his spine. He tried to make sense of all the signals his body was giving him but all the conflicted information was too confusing. Riddle's red eyes gleamed and he continued in a smooth whisper that simply took Harry's breath away.

"I'm talking about the _world_."

.

* * *

.

"Sirius, are you there? I'm home!"

Remus tiredly pulled of his shoes and sank into their couch in front of the fireplace. It was a very old furniture, with lots of moth holes and the springs creaked loudly with every move. A lot of their furniture was old and well used, but they both agreed it made the house more comfortable. It wasn't like they were going to find newer ones.

Sirius walked in from the kitchen. He looked relieved. "Moony! Where were you? I searched everywhere for you!"

"Like I told you, I went to see Harry. I'm sorry I was gone longer than expected."

"I wouldn't have worried if Harry didn't come see me and ask where you are. Why did you leave him? And what were you doing all this time?"

Remus grinned sheepishly and thought about Harry's indignant cry when he left him with lord Voldemort.

"Just making sure he'd start living again," replied Remus cryptically.

Sirius cocked his head thoughtfully, but then decided to let it go and shrugged.

"Sirius do you know if, hmm… How should I say…Did Harry ever have, well, 'the talk'?"

Sirius jaw dropped. "We are talking about the same Harry here right? 21 years old, genius, reading scientific books like comics?"

"No…"

Sirius let out a relieved sight. "Oh thank God, I thought-…"

"I'm talking about the young man who went through his teenage years without ever meeting someone around his age."

"Remus Lupin! If you are even _considering_ to explain to _Harry Potter_ how babies are made-… Please tell me a week beforehand so I can leave the country, because I'm not sure it will exist afterwards."

Remus laughed at his reaction. "I'm fully aware he knows the biology behind it."

Sirius exasperated threw his hands in the air. "That boy almost killed me with one of his inventions when I was pestering him about making some friends! I do not want to imagine his reaction when the word 'love' enters that discussion."

"Hmm, no, I don't think love is the right word for it…But try to imagine your teenage years without anyone of the same age group around you. No dirty jokes, no secret glances in the girl's locker rooms, no hidden magazines, nothing! I'm just not sure reading a scientific book about the different anatomy of men and women can compensate that. Everyone around him is at least ten years older; they know what to do. And the children are way too young that anyone would even think about that part of education. What if Harry doesn't realise sexual attraction even when it gets shoved right into his face? What if someone-…"

Remus trailed of worriedly when Sirius began cracking his knuckles, a dark look on his face.

"Okay, tell me which bastard we're talking about here. 'Cause if he's doing anything to my boy I'll, I'll-…"

Remus knew Sirius meant it quite literally and normally his threats were nothing to be taken lightly. But when he thought about Sirius confronting lord Voldemort, he couldn't help but picture a clumsy puppy growling pitiable at a giant snake.

He kept that thought to himself, even though Sirius still questioned him several days after his laughing fit.

.

* * *

.

There was definitely something wrong with him. Harry wondered if he was coming down with a fever. Whatever it was, Riddle still holding his chin was not helping. He needed to breathe some fresh air.

"Let go," he gritted out.

"Why?" came the amused reply.

Having no other choice, Harry took a step back and yanked his chin free. He poked at Riddle's chest accusingly.

"You are crazy. Completely insane. There is no way all humans in Britain can be controlled by one person, let alone around the whole globe.

Riddle solemnly straightened up. "I'll prove it's possible. I'll show you with Fudge."

"Fudge?! What does he have to do with anything? How about you show me with Dumbledore, or have you forgotten I'm practically waiting for him to kill me because some lunatic thought he had a plan?!"

Riddle seemed completely unconcerned. "He hasn't made any move yet. And I am certain he won't before he the outcome of this challenge is clear. I don't think he knows you are the reason behind it. Don't worry _Harry_ , I'll protect you." His crooked smile was taunting Harry.

He took a deep breath and forced himself not to react. Calmly he extended his hand and turned the palm up waiting.

"Key," he ordered curtly.

Riddle furrowed his brow mockingly. "You don't actually think I let you walk out of here? Do I need to remind you that Fudge still thinks you are lord Voldemort? There is no way I'll let you walk around town without supervision."

Harry almost threw up at the thought of staying at the inn for several days.

"I will most certainly not stay here with your bunch of madmen! Give me that key, now."

The lord only smirked at Harry's effort to control his anger.

"Make me," he dared.

Harry saw red.

He reached into his pocket and found the byproduct of his last blackout.

He had never told his friends, but whenever he blacked out he couldn't remember a big part of what he did beforehand. He remembered how he had come up with the plan for the challenge but he knew that he didn't collapse after that.

Remus had the theory that he blacked out as soon as he found the solution to whatever problem Harry was currently occupied with. But after waking up, Harry realised that each time he had an episode, he hadn't just found one particular solution, he also invented several new things without ever knowing when he had the ideas for them.

In a way it was like sleepwalking; at these times his unconsciousness seemed to take the upper hand. The byproducts often were related to other things that somehow had affected him in the days before the blackouts.  
And this time, his days were filled with Riddle.

He pushed the small button.

Harry normally did not enjoy seeing people in pain, but he had to confess that seeing Riddle fall to the floor with his face a mask of pain, was oddly satisfying.

"Don't even try to make me feel guilty about this, you asked for it," he said while bending down and take the key.

Riddle's body was trembling and his breath came in pained short pants. Harry grudgingly had to respect the man for not crying out. He might not remember how he had built it, but after one – very short – self test, he knew what the purpose of the device was.

Pain. It stimulated the brain to experience pure pain, even though there was no cause for it. Harry shuddered at the thought of his own brain _inventing_ something as cruel as that. What did that say about his subconsciousness?

He turned off the device. Riddle didn't move or say anything. He only lay there, breathing unevenly. Harry hoped he hadn't gone too far. He didn't know what a man with an ego like Riddle's would do after being beaten – maybe for the first time.

He decided not to hang around to find out and quickly opened the door. When he got down the stairs he was relieved to see that no members of Voldemort's group were at the tables. Not even Tom was behind the bar.

Just before he could leave the inn, he heard something that was so unexpected and frightening that his breath hitched. A clear, cold laugh came from upstairs.

Harry ran all the way to his shop.

* * *

It had gotten dark and chilly again. Harry cursed at the sight of his half wrecked shop. The cold would enter unhindered tonight.

He walked the last bit to calm down from his sprint. Only when he had crossed his frontyard did he see a dark figure waiting in the ruins of his shop. Warily he took some more steps but they were still several meters apart. The man turned and a tiny ray of moonlight illuminated his features.

_Black robes. Dark eyes. Pale. Greasy black hair. Crooked nose._

The world exploded in his head.  
Hot.  
Everything was so hot.  
Red.  
All he could see was red gleaming light everywhere.

The last thing he heard before he passed out was a women screaming in pain.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify: Harry does know about sex and what it means when someone has for example an erection, he just doesn't know how all the other - more subtle - signs of attraction feel like or how to interpret the signs of someone showing interest in him. He simply 'skipped' the natural hormone-crazy phase of his life because there was no one around that would have naturally caught his interest. Plus he does have a slightly asexual edge.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Note that...:** ...Hogwarts does not exist in my story, meaning Remus, Sirius, James, Lily, Snape never met each other. Remus and Sirius grew up together as did James, Lily and Snape.  
> ...I purposely screwed up the timeline, meaning Tom Riddle is YOUNGER than James and Lily.
> 
>  **Warnings:** Character death (you saw that coming I guess), James being an asshole, Dumbledore being crazy (sorry you two, normally I love you), heavy time skips, mentions of religious beliefs (but science gets some bashing too so no one should get upset) NO OFFENSE MEANT.

The first time he met Lily Evans and James Potter was in kindergarten. It was the beginning of his biggest hate and his greatest love.

Back then, the two seemed like the opposite site of a coin. However if Severus Snape looked back later, he realised that they didn't oppose each other - they were complements in his misery. James bullied him and Lily saved him. Again and again.

He never thought he deserved Lily – perfect Lily - but he never understood why of all the decent men around her, she picked James. He tried to talk to her, make her see what type of person potter really was. She listened to him, like she always did, like his opinion mattered because she cared for him.

When she found out how deep Severus' hatred for James rooted she began to cry, not understanding how her best friend and the man she loved could not stand each other.  
Snape was devastated. All he ever wanted was seeing Lily happy. When he told Lily he might try to get along with James for her sake, her beautiful face was so joyful, he almost believed his own words.

When they grew older, they went to the same university. Snape because he wanted to get away from this miserable town, Lily because it was her dream and James because Lily convinced him to.

Lily and James both studied biology, Lily mastering in genetics and James in biotechnology. Severus began to study medicine, soon found out that working closely with people was not the right choice and switched to pharmacy.

They were all top students. Lily because she was naturally gifted, Snape because his books were his second greatest love and James because he recklessly broke all rules and tried to look at things in a new way.

Snape avoided James like a plague and James in return stopped going out of his way to bully him. Because of their connection to Lily, they grudgingly tolerated each other.

After they graduated, they went back to their hometown. Lily and James because they had plans to buy a house there and Snape because without Lily, his live had no meaning.

The old apothecary in their town was a bit eccentric. His name was Albus Dumbledore and he was already well past the retirement age. He gladly turned the pharmacy over to Severus and from then on they split the work. Albus tended to the customers in the store and Snape was responsible for mixing the drugs.

He enjoyed his solitary work and soon became a well sought ought expert on unusual diseases.

He got along well with Albus. Although a bit eccentric, he respected his brilliant mind and philosophies. Snape never had a father. His mother brought him up alone before she remarried a brutal drunk. In a way, Albus was the first adult who seemed to care about him and Snape started to confide in him like in no other person.

He stayed in touch with Lily. Both for private and business matters. Albus took a liking to the young couple, saying with twinkling eyes that the presence of the three youths made him feel young again.

Lily's advances in genetic engineering were revolutionary. The trio spent hours debating new methods and philosophising over yet unsolved problems.

When Lily told Severus that they were expecting a baby he felt his world shatter into tiny pieces around him. He had known they were living together, but the small swelling of Lily's abdomen was the first real evidence of what James did to her. Only Lily's radiant face kept him from murdering James. Instead, he told her how happy he was for her.

She asked him to become the child's godfather. He was surprised that James seemed okay with it. He had to admit that the former bully was overjoyed with the prospect of having a family. Not even Severus could deny that the love on his face when he looked at Lily was real.

He accepted their offer, knowing it would bring him a step closer to Lily, a bit closer to his love - and to his pain.

When the child was born, Severus didn't know how to feel about the boy. With his unruly black hair and the same impish facial features, he was a carbon copy of his father. But the eyes, the startling green, intelligent eyes were the same as Lily's. Albus told him the eyes were the windows to the soul. He long since knew about Severus' conflicted feelings towards the small family. Snape could only hope he was right and the boy would turn out like his mother.

His prayers seemed to work, as Harry was an unusual content and calm baby. Even long before he said his first word, he seemed to understand what was going on around him.

When Harry was a bit more than two months old, things began to fall apart.

The worldwide problems caused by sever overpopulation could no longer be ignored. More and more nations went to war due to the tensions in politics and the threatening shortage of supplies. People became moody and started to lose themselves. The law became more and more meaningless. But the chaos hadn't reached their little town yet.

Sometimes Albus would make shocking comments about certain people 'deserving' the wars and that the society as it was, was so deeply rotten that a collapse would be the best that could happen to the world.

Oh how many times did Severus lay awake at night, wondering how things would have turned out if he hadn't ignored those remarks!

While the world became a more and more depressing place, Lily's light began to shine even brighter. She searched for a solution to the world's starvation problem. With the help of James and Snape, she managed to genetically alter crops who could grow on almost every surface, with almost no nutrients and with life cycles so short that they gave a full harvest every month.

However, she had altered the plant's genetic information so thoroughly, that they had harmful effects on living organisms when consumed. Time was racing against them and society began to fall more and more apart.

She called a friend from her university days for help. Merope Gaunt-Riddle and her eleven year old son Tom Riddle moved into town. Merope and Lily worked day and night in hope to find a solution that could prevent the hunger crisis to spiral completely out of control.

Because both of Harry's parents, including Tom's mother, spent every wake minute researching, the boys often were completely alone. Lily and her little research team seemed right before the big breakthrough, and while the two mothers regretted not being able to spent time with their boys, they chose to sacrifice everything in order to save the world.

To all the adults' great relief, Tom seemed mature enough to take care of himself and baby Harry. He also understood the importance of the research and never complained about looking out for Harry. They would often stay at home or spent their days in the lab of their parents without bothering them.

Several things went wrong simultaneously.

The first was the emergence of the 'Renovation' guild. Not at all were everyone involved religious aspired. Some were, claiming that what was happening was like a second Noachian deluge. Others were hardcore Darwinians, arguing that it was time for the humans to evolve and thus going back to natural selection.  
Together the group stood for the opinion that the hardship was necessary and should not be prevented.

Lily's research team suffered a huge setback when members of the Renovation guild tried to burn down their lab.  
They managed to save the most important parts of their research, but it took time to set up a new location. This time, they kept it hidden. Only Lily, James, Merope, the children and Severus knew the hideout.

They tried getting help from the government, explaining that if they succeeded, a major problem of the overpopulation would be solved. But the government was already too absorbed into the worldwide affairs and did not find the time to help them.

The second thing Snape noticed, was James' change in behaviour. He reverted back into his old selfish and brutal self. When he looked at his wife there was no longer pure love but other, darker emotions. But everyone was really stressed out, so Snape didn't pay much attention to that detail. Lily was too absorbed into her work to notice anything.

He got a call from Tom, saying he was feeling very sick and could not take care of Harry. So Severus went over to the Potter's house to watch over the six month old baby.

To his surprise he saw James feeding Harry when he arrived. It was odd because Tom hadn't mentioned that James was still home even though he should have been in the lab with Lily long ago. Not wanting to talk to his most hated bully, he stayed hidden and waited.

He grew more and more wary when James didn't _do_ anything with Harry except feeding him. He didn't talk to his son in the annoying baby-language adults often used when talking to small children, nor did he tuck Harry into his crib before he left. He just left the little baby alone on the floor.

Snape had never liked babies and thus didn't really know what to do with little Harry. The boy had learned to crawl and seemed to be content just playing with his toys and didn't seem to be bothered by the lack of attention he received.

Eventually Snape fell asleep on the couch. He was woken by Harry tugging at his sleeves, an empty baby bottle in his tiny hands. Harry fell asleep soon after Snape fed him and Snape considered going back to sleep himself, when he saw the toys Harry had been playing with. Harry had managed to get his hands on a jigsaw puzzle, not one for little kids with only a handful of pieces, but one with several thousand, meant for patient adults.

Every piece was neatly in his place, revealing a photograph of a brown stag drinking in the forest under the full moon.

Snape stared at the child. He had had only a few hours to solve the puzzle, not to mention that he shouldn't have been able to do it at all. The boy hadn't even started walking or talking yet.

Dazzled, he began cleaning up the kitchen when his eyes fell on several small blue pills in the trash.

He didn't recognise them, which was odd because the Potter's, like every other family in town, bought their supplies at the only pharmacy in town – his. On a whim, he stuffed the pills in his pocket.

Out of all the things going wrong around him, Harry throwing up was probably the most shocking discovery Severus made. Babies often couldn't hold their food, he knew that but… Harry's vomit was bluish and there were little lumps in his vomit that could not possibly have come from his baby food.

When Tom got a little better a day later, Snape could return home.

He started analysing Harry's vomit, which he had saved in a bottle. He wasn't able to identify all the components but they _definitely_ shouldn't have been in the child's body. All he managed to find out was that they severely altered the behaviour of neural cells. He analysed the pills too, dreading the outcome. The results matched.

Snape felt numb. Someone was feeding the little boy pills that even he couldn't identify. And he knew who it was.  
He wanted to talk to Lily, but she already suffered from severe sleep deprivation and she seemed to carry the worries of the whole world, he couldn't imagine what good it would do if he burdened her with the knowledge.

So he talked to Dumbledore.

The old man had changed drastically over the last few month. He seemed more energetic, more involved and his cold-hearted remarks increased. He was talking more and more of a new world, a second chance, a better life.

But Severus had so much on his mind that he ignored the eccentric man. After all, no one was quite himself these days.

Dumbledore advised him to confront James directly. Snape didn't want to at first, talking himself into thinking that it was none of his business. But no matter how hard he denied the fact, deep down Severus Snape was a kind man with a soft heart.

He went to the secret lab, all the way cursing his own cowardly and introverted nature, determined to act boldly at least once in his life.

He found Lily sleeping on the small couch they had put in the lab for the time when the urge to sleep became overwhelming. They were close now, only one harmful effect remained to be altered before humans could safely eat the fast growing crop. Society was very near its collapse, food supplies were non-existent and people pretty much lived off their own gardens and conserved supplies. Everyone was hungry, but it was not yet completely unbearable.

The world was _this_ close to be saved. Snape had spent the coming years blaming alternately himself and almost everyone involved for the tragedy but the truth was that only Lily – perfect Lily – could not be held responsible for the project's failure.

He found James in another room. The man who had everything Snape ever wanted. He was half-naked, making out with an equally naked Merope.

Snape had never, _ever,_ felt so angry before. James had everything. He had married the most beautiful and gifted and _perfect_ women in the world, who had given him a son and that _jerk_ not only experimented on his own son but was betraying the women who sacrificed everything to save the world.

Snape stormed out of the building but James had seen him and ran after him.

"Snape, wait! I can-…I can explain, I-…!"

Snape whirled around. The hot anger caused him physical pain.

"Explain? Explain?! You want to explain to me why you betrayed the women who gave you everything? Or how you could shut off your conscience and experiment on your own son? He's not even one year old Potter! What kind of sick person do you have to be to-"

"You know how it feels!" yelled James desperately. "You know how it is to watch others have what you want, don't think I have not seen your look when Lily is around! You were tagging along since kindergarten, always watching in the shadows, always waiting and hating. And you dare to call me sick?"

"That is not the same," denied Snape vehemently.

"You don't know how it is to actually stand beside her! Standing next to her and hearing all the things people say about her! How perfect she is, how brilliant her mind, how fresh her ideas, how she will save us all. I achieved great things too you know? Back in the days where no one was waiting for her to save the world. I was the one with the ideas, I worked my butt off to build my reputation and she has one success and everyone is blown away!"

Snape felt sick and lost in a helpless rage. His mind was blank.

"You are _jealous_?" he almost whispered.

But James didn't hear him, he seemed lost in his thoughts. "I will show them, all of them. I will show the whole world what we could be, what we could achieve. I will guide humanity to the next step. Not through evolution, we are above nature, but we can create our own form, define our own future, we-" he trailed off babbling incomprehensible sentences.

He was insane. Severus had never felt so helpless before. Somebody had to stop him, somebody had to help, somebody-… Snape needed to tell Dumbledore.

He was never able to recall how he got back to the pharmacy. Nor did he remember what exactly he told Dumbledore. His memories were lost in a whirlwind of emotions. So much hate, anger and confusion cursed through his brain, that he didn't even notice Dumbledore leave, nor where he went or how long he was gone before Severus' eyes fell on the open diary on Dumbledore's desk.

At first he just stared blankly at the text until one word finally settled in his numb brain. 'Renovation'. He stood up and went over to the desk to read the entry. He grew more and more horrified and almost blacked out when he read a hasty note at the bottom of the page. It was the location of Lily's hidden lab. Severus himself must have told him in his emotional and hasty explanation.

He ran faster than ever in his life. He ignored the physical pain and the exhaustion and just ran. The only thing in his mind was the word 'no' and the only thing in his heart was absolute desperation.

.

* * *

.

Harry did not like the cold light of the room. He also didn't like how the slightly stinky air made his nose tickle. And he especially hated that Tom left him alone with the big tall humans. They were so boring! And there were no toys for him. He was fascinated with the different shapes of the glass thingies but when he wanted to taste them, mommy yelled at him and Harry didn't like to be yelled at.

He crawled to another room and found a wooden stick on the floor. He grabbed it with his tiny hands and started to amuse himself with hammering the thing on the ground.

He heard the door open and turned to see if Tom had returned. But it was only another tall human with a crinkling face. The man smiled and waved at him. Harry found him boring and started hammering again.

Then the man began to make the floor wet. Harry's nose twitched when he inhaled the stench of the liquid. The man poured the smelly stuff everywhere around the room, only leaving the stairs behind Harry dry. Harry didn't like the stinking stuff and wanted to crawl to the next room but the man crouched down in front of him and pulled something out of his pockets.

He smiled at Harry and rubbed a little stick against a little box and suddenly there was a little red light at the end of the little stick! It flickered and danced as if it was alive. Harry had never seen anything so beautiful. He felt very disappointed when the man blew on the stick and the little light vanished.

But then the man gave him the box and Harry eagerly took a little stick out and rubbed it against the box. It took him some tries but then he finally managed to get the light and he squealed in delight. The man smiled and waved again before he left the room. Harry didn't care where he went, he was already absorbed in this new toy.

Sadly the light died whenever he swung the stick around and he had to take a new stick and rub it again against the box. Finally he understood that he should not swing the stick around and hold it still.

Curiously he watched the light wander down the stick, leaving a black stick behind it. When it reached his fingers a sharp pain shot to his brain and he let the stick fall to the ground. Suddenly there was a big red light right in front of him. Harry quickly forgot about the pain and clapped his hands together from sheer excitement.

The light spread out quickly and Harry didn't like how it became hotter and hotter in the room. He remembered how the little light had hurt him and started to become afraid of the roaring big light. It was everywhere now and he heard his mommy scream in the room next to him. His nose and throat hurt now and he coughed so hard he vomited, even though he didn't like to vomit.

He heard other people shout and scream but he couldn't see anything except the red light. He heard mommy scream his name again and again and he was really afraid now, he didn't like the light anymore and it was really hot and his throat hurt.

He somehow managed to crawl to the stairs and Harry realised that it was cooler above him, so he started to crawl up.

He coughed again, it was really hard to breathe now and he still heard his mommy screaming "HarryHarryHarry-!"

He finally managed to get some less scratching air into his lungs and he instinctively yelled back "mommymommymommy-!"

He was almost a year old, but it was his first word.

He heard his mommy sob.

He didn't like the sound.

.

* * *

.

When Snape arrived, Tom and Dumbledore were already there.

Late. Too late. Nonononono. It couldn't be, it couldn't -…

Then he saw the fire. A big, unforgiving, murderous monster. The lab was already completely burnt down. Severus collapsed to the ground and started crying shamelessly.

He distantly heard Dumbledore talking to Merope's boy, trying to comfort the shocked boy with sweet words.

All Severus knew about Tom was that he never knew his father. He had lived with Merope and her abusive father and brother before Merope finally decided to take her son and leave. They had absolutely nothing at first. To Tom, his mother was everything.

Snape thought about Tom's mother and Lily, the research that was all lost now and even about James. He heard Dumbledore's sweet words and threw up the little he had in his stomach.

Public services like the ambulance or the fire brigade had stopped working long ago and it took a whole day to put the fire out that had spread to the neighbouring houses.

As if by a miracle, which Severus knew was not a miracle at all, they managed to find an almost intact tape from a security camera. Snape, Tom and Dumbledore watched it together.

Most of the data was conveniently lost but one footage was painfully clear. It showed little Harry playing with matches and then dropping one of them. The footage became fuzzy after that, until the fire had already spread through the entire room.

It was the front room and there was no other way out, meaning that everyone had to pass that room in order to get out. The fire had spread so fast that Lily, James and Merope had no chance to escape. Harry might have had a chance if he wouldn't have been a little baby who couldn't even walk yet.

They searched the boy everywhere in the faint hope he might have somehow escaped the fire. They never found any sign of him.

Severus knew exactly how those matches found their way into Harry's hands, but Tom didn't.

Snape followed Dumbledore out of the room like in a dream. Nothing felt real, not even his grief. In the doorway he stopped and looked back at Tom.

The boy's innocent face was a distorted diabolic grimace. He was replaying the footage of Harry dropping the match again and again.

He was the spitting image of a fallen angel.

.


	9. Chapter 9

"He was my _babysitter_?!"

Harry just knew that the picture of Riddle changing his diapers would hunt him in his nightmares.

He was pacing in his living corner, trying to wrap his mind around the story he just heard.

His own hazy memories had forced themselves past the tightly shut door in his head and the sheer pain of it had knocked Harry out for a few minutes. He had woken up in his bed, the familiar stranger sitting stiffly by the table.

His name was Severus Snape. Harry had a hard time judging the man's character.

The first thing he had seen of the man was an emotional breakdown during the recounting of his story, which was more than understandable considering what the man had gone through. But now that he had finished and composed himself, the man seemed void of all emotions and completely rigid. His manner of speaking changed from passionate to painstakingly accurate, with a good deal of sarcasm underlining his sentences.

Harry suspected that he wouldn't see his emotional side any time soon.

"Due to the time-consuming research of your parents and his mother, he was the one looking out for your well-being."

Snape followed Harry's pacing with his onyx eyes. He had quickly caught up to Harry's opinion about lord Voldemort and seemed to find amusement in Harry's indignant reaction over their shared past.

"You preferred his company over us adults, if I dare say so."

Harry shot the man a dark look. His expression softened when he saw a very small, very tight-lipped smile on Snape's face. He was glad to see that the man was still capable of pleasant emotions.

"So let me get this straight…Dumbledore gave you a tip about me being here?"

"He never mentioned your name, he merely pointed out your skills and the fact that you have yet to join a group. He somehow knew that I joined lord Voldemort and made it look as if he wanted to help us…and you."

Harry sighed. "Riddle was right then - Dumbledore really did plan all this… What?" he asked when he saw Snape frowning lightly.

"I am merely surprised you know that name. You said Voldemort did not tell you about your past. Yet he gave you his real name, something he hasn't done since he took on the name Voldemort. Tell me, do you call him Tom Riddle when speaking to him?"

"Yes...why?"

Snape shrugged. "Nothing, it's interesting that's all."

"Don't you call him Tom Riddle? I mean… you knew him as a child."

If possible, Snape grew even more rigid. "And I am surprised every day when I find out he has not killed me yet."

When he saw Harry's confused look he expanded. "He hates Dumbledore and me for seeing him when he was still young and weak. When he took on the name Voldemort he sought to bury his past. The best I can do to let him forget that I was part of it is by _never_ mentioning his real name."

Harry stopped with his pacing and slowly sat down on the opposite side of his table.

"He almost chocked me to death when he met me...only because he thought I dropped a match when I was one year old."

Snape's expression remained blank. "That was to be expected I'm afraid."

Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "How come _you_ are still alive?"

Snape shifted uneasy. Harry couldn't help but think that everything about the man looked uncomfortable.

"You never told him did you?" Harry stated it without accusation.

"I tried to, really I did. At first I searched for you, hoping against hope that you survived the fire. After I gave up on that I searched for Merope's boy. The chaos had started by then and I feared he would not survive." He paused and solemnly stared out of the window. "I just wanted to salvage what was left after…well. The chaos continued and I was forced to give up on him too."

"But he survived. How did you find him?"

"By pure Chance," admitted Snape. "We met about a year ago. He had…changed. I remembered him as a quiet but nice boy, what stood before me however…" he trailed off.

Harry shuddered involuntarily. 'Quiet and nice' were the last two adjectives he associated with Riddle. The lord reeked of power, arrogance and sharp intelligence. He had become a man who expected perfection and did not tolerate the tiniest mistake. To even think about telling him that he was responsible for the accident that caused his mother's death…he certainly didn't blame Snape for keeping his mouth shut.

"I could have dealt with a fierce man or even with a powerful lord but he was…murderous. He forgave nothing and punished heavily for no reason. It was only a year ago but compared to today he was a lunatic."

"I don't see any change," grumbled Harry, but only received a pointed look.

"Why did you stay? You could have just-…"

"Run?" Snape smiled bitterly. "I could never do that."

"But why?"

Snape remained silent. Harry had the dark feeling that Snape simply didn't want to run. The man saw it as his punishment for what he did. He didn't fear Riddle's harsh punishments, he craved them. Well, maybe he wasn't a fan of the physical pain, but from what Harry had seen Riddle was a master at psychological pressure.

Harry doubted Snape was fully aware of the reason he couldn't get away from Riddle, but nevertheless couldn't get away from him. Poor fellow, he had great potential but his own self-hatred blocked his path.

Harry sighed and decided to steer the conversation away from the subject. "So neither Riddle nor yourself have seen me in 20 years – how did you recognise me?"

Snape grimaced involuntarily. "Well for one, your resemblance to your father is uncannily, although I don't think I ever saw him this dirty."

Snape pointedly ignored Harry's stuck out tongue but continued in a milder voice. "And then there are your vivid green eyes, I would never forget that colour."

"I sure wish Riddle would have," remarked Harry.

"The fact that you used your real name also didn't help I presume. Which leads me to my question; how did you know your name? And while we're at it; how did you survive?"

Harry stood up and rummaged around in his drawer. He found the crumpled paper and handed it to Snape who unfolded it delicately. He read the few sentences on it and frowned.

"Your birth certificate? How did you get that?"

Harry shrugged. "It was just always on me. I don't have any memory of my survival, just this hazy extract of the fire and my mom screaming. And that only since this evening. I guess I just assumed that my parents abandoned me during the chaos and… someone helped me out of pity? I honestly have no clue."

"You could have crawled out of the burning lab, but we searched the town for you. It is not possible that you got away that fast. It's as if someone just took you with them, but with the chaos almost upon us, that really wouldn't make any sense. What do you remember from your childhood?"

Harry shrugged again. He had tried to recreate his path of survival many times but always bumped into a black hole at the end.

"When I was almost seven, I remember being in a small village. There were no other people and I got scared because it felt so lonely, like I was the last person in this destroyed world. Then I just remember walking in a bigger town where I stole food from that particular stupid gang of older kids. They were so easy to trick that I lived off their goods for several weeks."

Harry laughed, remembering how great he felt each time he managed to nick a bit of food.

"I remember other groups, not with lords and stuff, those didn't exist back then. Just really small groups of people traveling across the land and gathering food. I followed one unnoticed and stole a tiny bit of their food until they noticed me and I had to run. Then I found myself another group and followed them and so on. When I was twelve I landed in London. People started to settle down in the old buildings. I helped them repair stuff and they gave me food for exchange. Then I began to gather all kinds of material and started building my own stuff. You are sitting in the result of it."

Harry gestured at the rows of shelves behind Snape.

"You had impressive survival skills for a child mixed with plain luck. While it explains a great deal it strikes me as odd that you of all people should not remember your earlier years. Have you considered that you block out your earlier memories like you did with the accident? If you can remember yourself as a one year old, you should technically be able to remember a great deal about your first six years."

Harry once again forced himself to remember the fire and searched for other earlier memories. It only gave him a light headache.

"I don't think it works that way. I only remembered the fire because I met you. Maybe if I would meet whoever helped me as a baby, the memories would come back."

"That is a possibility. However, you didn't remember anything while meeting Voldemort, who knows why you remembered me."

"Hmm, maybe because I last saw Riddle as a child? His appearance probably differs more from my memories than yours. Although the same time span lies between you, you already were an adult back then and your physical appearance didn't change as much as Riddle's."

Snape inclined his head. "That however would mean you should have also remembered Dumbledore."

Harry huffed annoyed. "Jeez, I don't know! I guess my head is just messed up like that. Speaking of Dumbledore, did he never suspect you knew more than you should?"

Snape stiffly shook his head. "At first I wanted to confront him for what he had done, but I suspected a tragic accident would soon happen to me too. I started collecting information about the Renovation-guild but all I ever got was that he must have been in a rather high position. They tried burning the lab once, thus Lilly decided to keep the next location secret. I only wish she would have never told _me_."

Harry raked his hands through his messy hair and tried to wrap his mind around all the new information. "It just doesn't make any sense that I would still be alive. I understand he was in this guild which apparently _wanted_ the chaos, thus their attacks at my parents because they were afraid they would find a solution that could prevent it. But what did I ever do to them? He never tried to kill Riddle right? And why does he want me dead _now_? I mean, after all this time living right under his nose?"

"Well, I'm sure at first you were just an innocent baby who had to be sacrificed for the greater good. And one that fit nicely in his plans. If he only came across you now, I might have argued that he is just shocked that you survived and wants to finish what he started. But apparently he was content with letting you live your life right next to him for years. Maybe he fears that you would eventually remember? I don't doubt he would kill me if he came to the conclusion that I know the truth about the accident."

"Yeah well but if he was afraid I might remember, he would have killed me long ago, right? Why the wait?"

Snape shrugged. "It must have something to do with the reappearance of Tom Riddle. As you just proved this evening, familiar faces can trigger memories to come forth."

Harry grinned weakly. "It might be just a tad suspicious if I ran to Riddle and told him about Dumbledore."

Snape raised his eyebrows. "Suspicious?"

Harry looked at him bewildered. "I can't bloody well tell him _now_ that you had something to do with it, can I? You seem to be under the impression that he isn't that murderous anymore but let me tell you; he can get back to that real quick."

Snape's expression remained blank and tight.

"I live with the shame and self-hatred every day. I would never blame you if you told him what you know now. Logically it would have been wiser to not tell anyone, but when I saw you I knew I just had to, _you_ at least deserve to know the truth."

Harry stared at the uncomfortable man in front of him. There was a resigned look in his eyes, as if he was sure that Harry would sell him out to Voldemort. Harry wondered if Snape secretly hoped he would.

"I forgive you," he said suddenly. He hadn't really meant to say that but the words were out before he could stop them. They felt right and Harry realised that he really did forgive the tormented man sitting at his table.

"Don't," whispered Snape painfully, "don't ever say that. No matter how kind your heart might be, there are things one cannot forgive."

"You forget that in the end, it was me who burnt them…You said you don't deserve to live, but how did I deserve to survive?" asked Harry bitterly.

"You were a baby. I was a fully grown up man-…"

"…Who was madly in love with a women who married a jerk and who got manipulated and deceived by Dumbledore," smiled Harry. "You have to stop hating yourself and start blaming Dumbledore, he is the one responsible for this mess, not you."

"How can you take the death of your parents so lightly?"

Harry paused to think about the question. It was a good one actually. Harry knew he should feel something other than the relief of finally knowing his past, but it was hard. He realised that he _did_ feel sad and he _did_ feel guilty for what part he played in their demise, but it wasn't the searing pain he imagined it to be.

"I never knew them. I never had the chance to miss something I never had. The only parents I saw were abandoning their children for their own sake. I don't take their death lightly, not after hearing what part I played in it, but I refuse to throw away my life because of it and I wish you wouldn't either."

He looked directly in Snape's dark eyes. "Thanks for loving my mom Mr Snape. But I'm sure she wouldn't want you to hate yourself either, and if she did, she never deserved you."

Harry could see Snape struggling with his emotions. The poor fellow probably never stopped loving her. Harry smiled fondly. His mother must have been an amazing woman for him to love her so, and Snape was quite amazing himself for never wavering once in his devotion.

"She certainly didn't deserve what Potter was doing to her," murmured Snape, avoiding Harry's stare.

"Ah yes, my dear father," mused Harry. He wasn't sure how he felt about the man who sired him. Even Snape, who apparently hated him with all his heart, admitted that there was a time when he was a loving husband and father. Harry wondered what had happened to him to start envy his own wife so much he seemingly turned into a madman. Hearing about the pills that he had been eating for God knows how long was unsettling.

"Just what exactly did he do to me?"

The prospect of talking about science related facts, shook Snape out of his resigned state.

"Like I said, the pills seem to affect the nervous cells in the body but I could never figure out what the intended effect should be. From what I heard from Potter, I figured he wanted to create what he called the next step in human evolution. Apparently he focused on human intelligence."

Snape looked warily at Harry. "You are rumoured to be exceptional intelligent…abnormally so."

"Err…" sputtered Harry. Accepting that his intelligence only came from pills that his mad father created was kind of a low blow. Even though he would be the first one to admit that his blackouts weren't exactly normal.

"I don't doubt your intelligence is mostly natural. Both of your parents were exceptional students after all. Before the chaos, when people actually had the time to wonder about such things, it was believed that we don't use the full potential of our brain. Maybe the pills just stretched your natural intelligence to its fullest potential."

"Would they cause…blackouts?" asked Harry innocently.

"What blackouts?"

After a moment of contemplation, Harry told him about his blackouts. He even told him about the memory loss and byproducts, something not even his friends knew. It was hard to read Snape but Harry thought he could see concern in his eyes.

"Interesting. The pills might indeed be responsible for these episodes. I would have to make further tests."

"You still have the pills?" asked Harry incredulously.

"No, but I do have my analysis of them. If I remember correctly, some of the substances will be hard to acquire but not impossible. I am certain I can recreate them if we get back to our headquarters."

Snape shot Harry an assessing glance. "You will come with us I assume, or is that still open to discuss?"

"Err-…" began Harry, causing another tight smile from the stiff man in front of him.

"I see. We will see you in a day then?"

Upon seeing Harry's blank look he sneered "You know…the challenge? I don't know the details yet, but I heard you play a central part."

Harry groaned. "Right, I better start mixing that paint. Err, you'll see," he answered Snape's unspoken question.

There was a knock at, well, Harry's completely bashed in front door. Whoever entered only knocked out of courtesy, since the non-existent wall was clearly not a hindrance anymore.

"Expecting visitors?" asked Snape in a low voice.

"No," whispered Harry.

"Excuse me?" came a disdainful voice from his shop.

"That's Lucius Malfoy," sneered Snape, "it's a wonder he hasn't fainted at the sight of your untidy house."

"Is he dangerous?" asked Harry warily. He had enough of strangers abducting him for a while.

"He will be to me, if he finds me here. Is there another way out?"

Harry directed him to the small backdoor and with a last stiff nod, Snape disappeared in the night.

Harry made his way to the front. He suppressed a smile when he saw the resemblance to Draco. Apparently Harry wasn't the only one who took strongly after his father. And if his son's attitude was anything to go by, he better watched his tongue around Lucius.

"You must be Mr Malfoy, welcome. May I help you?"

Malfoy's disdainful look seemed to accuse Harry of forcing him to step in such a messy environment. The man had a hard time keeping his disapproval out of his features, but he eventually succeeded.

"Mr Potter? Yes, I heard you…aided my son. I came here to express my gratitude."

Would it kill the man to say the words 'help' and thanks'? Apparently, since he sought out Harry in the middle of the night.

"It wasn't his fault that Fudge wanted to kidnap him, it's a shame a child gets pulled into these affairs."

Lucius gracefully approved. "I heard you will assist us in the coming challenge against this despicable man. I hope everything is prepared?"

"Err…Yeah, sure, almost," bluffed Harry. It would be if the members of this bloody group would stop distracting Harry.

Silence stretched between them. Lucius clearly wanted to get this over with without being impolite.

"Well…If there is anything you require, feel free to let me know. My family is in your debt."

If it would have been anyone else, Harry probably would have dismissed the notion, but he had a feeling that a favour from the Malfoys could serve him well.

"Thank you Mr Malfoy."

They were silent again. Harry's feet grew uncomfortably cold next to the open wall. Finally, Lucius broke the silence.

"Best luck with the preparations Mr Potter, good night."

"Good night Mr Malfoy, greet Draco for me."

Lucius nodded and hurriedly walked into the dark, as if he was afraid somebody would see him leave Harry's shop.

Harry wanted nothing more than go to bed and think about what he learnt tonight. But the challenge was the day after tomorrow and neither the paint nor his shield were ready for battle. Harry sighed and began to work.

While mixing the substances he wondered how it would be to face Riddle, knowing about their shared past and about Severus Snape. It was best Riddle didn't find out too soon. Harry hoped he wouldn't subconsciously treat him any different from before, Riddle would notice the change immediately.

Harry shook his head and tried to concentrate. Before dealing with his past and Dumbledore, he had a battle to win.

.


	10. Chapter 10

Harry knew that the quiet days of his life were over when seventeen men invaded his home, each of them apparently hell-bent on touching every dangerous and explosive device in Harry's shelves.

He just couldn't decide whether it would solve his problems if he ceased to stop them, or if his life would get any worse. Torn between letting them kill themselves and saving what was left of his home, he frantically tried to talk some sense into Voldemort's men and put himself between his inventions and their stupidity. When one of them – if Harry remembered correctly Bellatrix once called him Avery – almost knocked over the container with the paint, his patience cracked.

"Everyone freeze!" he yelled unnerved, a bit surprised when they actually stopped and turned to him.

"The next person who moves will fight _without_ the fucking paint, are we clear?!"

Annoyed, he puffed a strand of hair out of his face. He caught Riddle lurking behind a particular high shelf and shot him a warning glance.

"That includes the nobility."

Riddle only smiled at him sweetly. His whole composure screamed innocence, but it only helped to set Harry's nerves even more on edge.

"Okay people, form two rows please - _careful_ with the shelves."

Harry had no illusions; if their lord wouldn't have moved exactly like Harry directed them to, no one would have listened to him. But since Riddle seemed content with letting Harry handle the situation, they all obeyed without ever questioning his authority.

"Fine, everyone in the first row grab a bowl full of paint and pour it over the person standing behind you. Afterwards smear the paint over any patches that are not yet wet."

The ones standing in second row began to mutter in protest. Harry saw Lucius Malfoy looking disgruntled at the smelly paint but otherwise enduring the procedure in silence. Bellatrix on the other hand seemed to have the time of her life.

Riddle approached him with an empty bowl. Because they left Draco at the inn, there were now seventeen men in his group, meaning that one did not have a partner. Since no one was eager to dump cold paint over his lord, he was deferently being left alone.

He handed Harry the bowl.

"Do me the honours?" he asked tauntingly.

Harry warily took the bowl and filled it with paint. He had tried to prepare himself to face the man normally, after sorting out the knowledge of their past. It wasn't easy to look him in the eyes. Harry constantly felt the weight of Snape's secret. He wondered how Snape had been able to spend so much time with Riddle, without telling him what he knew.

He returned to the lord with a full bowl of paint and stood on a chair because he was almost two heads shorter than him. Riddle now had to look up at him, which somehow caused another wave of heat on Harry's cheeks.

"If you don't want to get it all in your eyes, you better look down" he grumbled and then tipped the bowl.

The paint immediately covered head, the upper arms, the torso and parts of the legs, but especially the extremities had to be painted by hand. Harry had the sinking feeling Riddle was enjoying himself to the fullest when Harry had to cover his feet.

"I hope it dries fast so I don't have to see your smug face anymore," he remarked dryly.

"Ahh, and for what do I have to wait to see that scowl disappear from your face?" replied Riddle smoothly.

"You could pretend to be in misery."

"And why should I do that?"

"Out of courtesy."

The lord grinned. "I'm already certain you amplified the stench just to spite us, I didn't want to give you the satisfaction."

"Only for you Riddle." Harry made certain the sarcasm was dripping from his sentence.

"And why, pray tell, would you go to such extends just to spite me?"

"Why, your face in pain is just too-…" Harry abruptly cut himself off, when he realised what he was implying. He had sworn to himself never to mention the incident at the inn, yet now he was all but rubbing it in the man's face.

Riddle's pupils were slightly dilated when he brought his face closer to Harry's.

"Careful, child. You don't know what you're playing with."

Harry opened his mouth to retort but Bellatrix's high pitched cackle interrupted him.

He turned around to look at the other sixteen men in his home. The paint had begun to dry, leaving the still wet body parts visible, while the drier ones began to disappear. Bellatrix's new source of enjoyment came from a man next to her, whose body still appeared normally but his head had become fully invisible. For those who were sceptical of the strange plan at first, it was the first major proof that the paint worked. The scepticism soon changed into optimism and Harry began to fear that the prospect of being invisible would give them a false sense of invincibility.

"Okay listen up! The paint does _not_ make you disappear, it merely adapts to the background, meaning you are still physically there. Your feet will still leave tracks on the ground and everyone will still be able to hear you. Also if you move too fast, anyone with a keen eye will be able to spot you as a blurry figure. It is essential that you move _quiet_ and _slow_ at all times."

He continued in a lower voice, his suggestion only meant for Riddle. "It is probably best if we wait here until all the paint is dry. It would be a bit dubious if anyone saw random pieces of human body parts drifting in the streets."

He turned around to face Riddle and tried in vain to hold back his laughter. Riddle was the exact opposite of the man next to Bellatrix; his body was completely invisible, while his head floated in the air. He looked ridiculous. Harry realised that a good deal of Riddle's formidable aura stemmed from his composure.

The man seemed anything but happy with his current appearance but he still threw Harry a mild smile. "Laugh while you can child, I will have my fun when you can't see me anymore."

The dark promise made Harry shiver, but he still couldn't stop chuckling.

After a few more minutes, his momentarily high made way for a sense of dread. Something worse than watching seventeen men tramping through his home? Knowing that those men were tramping through his home, without being able to see them.

Harry checked his pockets and made sure the small generator of his shield was in place. He had managed to modify the shield so he could walk around with it, which was much better than the fixed prototype he had come up with, but anything thrown at it still bounced off at unnatural angles.

Still…It _was_ a simple, yet good plan. If all went well the small scouting party wouldn't have just defeated a whole group, but done so in incredible short time.

"Well then," he said to the seemingly empty room, "let's go give the people some gossip."

He walked out of his ruined shop. For a short moment, he worried that no one would follow him since the men didn't see their lord anymore, but he soon heard muffled footsteps behind him.

One pair was a bit too close for comfort.

.

* * *

.

Fudge had picked the location suitable to his means. If two groups were even in number and strength, they often fought their challenge on grounds that allowed them to hide; like abandoned villages, forests, or a large building. The obstacles provided cover and made sure that the group with the better strategy would win. If two equally matched groups would clash on a more open field, the following fight would injure both sides severely and maybe even result in a draw.

However, Fudge didn't anticipate an even fight. His greatest strength always had been brute force and now that his group outnumbered their opponent so acutely, he didn't plan on allowing them any cover. The location was a desolated field right outside of London. Fudge planned to finish them quickly and didn't want to search for them behind any possible obstacles.

They were already there when Harry and his invisible followers arrived.

Even though Fudge thought that the challenge was a joke, he still didn't take any risk and had arrived with his full force. Harry was fairly sure some of the men standing behind Fudge weren't even officially in his group but in smaller ones. But there was no rule that only members of the groups could participate, that was the major reason why lords began to form alliances.

All in all, the number of people on the field surpassed Harry's expectation. In fact, he was convinced that he had never seen that many humans assembled _ever_. He couldn't help but feel a bit nervous at the thought that all those people would soon try to kill him, and him alone, since he was to their eyes the only one who showed up.

"Why, lord Voldemort! How gracious of you to show up," scoffed Fudge as Harry came closer. "And alone again! Do you even _have_ a group, or is it just you and the kid?"

The crowd jeered and laughed, taunting the young man who came to die alone.

Harry's heart sped up as adrenalin kicked in and his reflexes desperately tried to push him away from Fudge. Instead he took several deep breaths and reminded himself that it wasn't Harry who stood in front of the crowd, but Riddle. Somehow the knowledge that they didn't insult him but another man put a protective barrier between the cheering crowd and him. It also made it easier to appear as dismayed and pathetic as he was supposed to be in their plan.

"Minister… You didn't actually…take me seriously?" he asked weakly, putting on his best meekly expression. "I mean, you wouldn't kill a dozen men just to get back at a good joke would you? Surely-…"

"Oh no my dear lord Voldemort," flouted Fudge, "no getting out now. I warned you, I tried being fair, I even made you a deal! But you wouldn't listen and even killed some of my men. For that you and your members will pay!"

The crowed jeered again.

A wicked thought entered Harry's mind. All those people still thought he was lord Voldemort. Whatever he would do now would spread throughout the country. The amazing victory for one, but also his composure in front of Fudge. And Riddle, who took so much pride in his composed and gracious demeanour, would cringe if he was associated with anything weak, whether it only served as a deception or not.

With a suppressed smile, Harry fell to his knees on the muddy ground. If life gave you lemons, you better made lemonade. And Harry was determined to have his share of fun.

He made a face of utter despair and broke down pleading.

"Oh please don't kill me and my friends! They are innocent, spare them, I beg you! Surely a man of such greatness can forgive a young man, nothing more than a teenager, who only meant to bath in your glory! I am like Icarus, flying too close to the glorious sun and burn my wings. Don't condemn me for playing with things I don't understand. Oh great lord Fudge, hear my pleas, I-…"

Someone fired a gun. It missed by several meters but Harry knew he had overdone it and the fun was over. Oh well, Riddle had probably puked by now anyway.

He quickly activated his shield and scrambled hastily to his feet. He would try to dodge their bullets and arrows as long as possible. That way, Fudge's men would concentrate longer on Harry, thinking that he just had incredible good luck. Hopefully by the time they realised that something was seriously wrong, it would already be too late for them.

As more and more men shot bullets, arrows, and torches at him, Harry ran in zigzag across the field, hoping he wouldn't accidentally bump into one of Voldemort's men. He saw that Fudge took cover behind his men, even though Harry clearly wasn't a threat. Bloody coward.

A bullet hit him.

Harry had shot at his shield for testing, but he had never actually been in the shield when it was hit. The bullet produced a loud, ringing sound as if Harry sat directly under a huge bell. Worse, the sound didn't stop once the bullet deflected but continued with the same deafening intensity.

Automatically, Harry covered his ears and pressed his eyes close, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground. Since he wasn't moving anymore, he made an easy target and more things hit him, each time producing the same ear-splitting sound.

Harry numbly forced himself to stand up again, when he saw a few men come towards him. Apparently they started to realise that missiles wouldn't do the trick and planned on fighting Harry in closer combat.

A man armed with a sword caught up to Harry and stabbed him directly in the back. Of course, the shield deflected that attack too, causing the surprised men to fall on his face from the momentum of his own attack. Another man tried to behead Harry with a giant axe but he had to duck when his own weapon flew back at him instead.

Confused yells could be heard now, and then more and more painful cries. Harry's attackers stopped baffled and Harry managed to get away from them. He whirled around and saw the formerly organised crowd breaking formation. Some were still aiming at Harry, not realising what happened among them, while others seemed to notice but didn't understand what was going on and just stood there stupidly. More and more men fell, arms, legs or heads separated from their bodies.

A few began to panic now, dropping their weapons and ran towards the city. They were shot down from someone within the crowd. Others aimlessly flailed their swords in front of them. Harry had to give them credit, they apparently had the right idea about the attacks, although they were still clueless.

The few men that had caught up to Harry looked at him uncertainly. Gone was the taunting and jeering. Desperation and fear took their place.

Harry had made Riddle promise that he would avoid unnecessary deaths. While Harry didn't feel much pity for his opponents, he wanted to prevent a senseless massacre.

"Drop your weapons and get on the ground," he told his pursuers. They clearly didn't get what happened, but they could feel it was bad…and deadly. After exchanging uncertain glances, they did as Harry had told them.

Harry spun around, wanting to get to the crowd and tell Riddle to cease the attacks, when he bumped into solid thin air.

"Ouch, gods damn it," Harry cursed when the collision got amplified by his shield and threw him backwards several meters.

"Are you alright?" came a voice somewhere above him.

"Snape? That you?"

"Precisely. I gather we are finished here, seeing how those men already gave up?"

"Yes, do me a favour and go tell Riddle. I don't want to turn this into a bloodbath."

"You mean more than it already is?"

Harry slowly got up and let his gaze sweep across the field. A good half of the large crowd lied motionless on the ground. Killed by less than twenty men.

"You can say many things about us, but we work very efficient," remarked Snape. Harry wasn't sure whether there was more pride or bitterness in his voice.

"Just go," snapped Harry tiredly.

He heard footsteps running away from him.

Exhausted from all the running, he walked back to the crowd, or what was left from it. He kept his shield on just in case, but the fighting had ceased. Besides, he could tell there wasn't much power left. He tried not to think about what would have happened if the fight had continued for a few minutes longer.

The remaining crowd watched in awe as Voldemort's group rubbed off the paint with a cloth.

"But…but that's – that's-…" mumbled Fudge.

"…Cheating?" finished Harry, "nope, I'm afraid not."

He turned to the now visible, real lord Voldemort.

"Who ordered a small-sized victory?" he grinned.

"Yes well, my stomach grew a bit weak after your sloppy performance."

Harry feigned outrage. "Sloppy? That was the performance of my life Mr royal bastard!"

"Then I have _a lot_ to teach you."

"Err… teach me what exactly?"

But Riddle didn't reply. Instead he turned to Fudge.

"You have two choices Fudge: Continue leading your group under certain…instructions – or die honourably among your fallen men."

"Wha…what instructions? Wait… _you_ are the lor-…bu…but," asked Fudge dumbfounded.

Harry watched Riddle intently. Normally, if the opposing lord wasn't dead at the end of the challenge, the winner executed him right there. He was surprised that Riddle of all lords would show mercy to someone like Fudge. But Riddle hadn't wasted a heartbeat making the proposal to Fudge. Harry guessed he had planned to let him live all along, which was even weirder. He wondered what kind of game Riddle was playing.

"It's a very simple question Fudge. Choose."

Fudge picked himself up and stared flabbergasted at Riddle and Harry. Apparently, he couldn't believe that they would let him live either.

"I…ahem… would be happy to continue, with, ah, with your instructions."

"Marvellous."

With that, Riddle turned his back to Fudge and his remaining men, and started to walk towards the city.

Harry extinguished his shield so he could move more freely and hurried after him.

"Err, you sure that's alright? Not to criticise your leadership skills or anything, but isn't that a bit risky?"

"Fudge will be too scared to attempt revenge for the moment. All I have to do in the next few days is ensnare him enough that he will follow me quite willingly."

With any other lord, Harry would have seriously doubted that it would be that easy, but he just knew the man would actually success with that, simply because he could.

"So, what, you'll merge with Fudge's group?"

Riddle snorted. "Don't be ridiculous, if I'd plan on fusing with every group I'll beat, the sheer size would sooner or later be uncontrollable."

"That's what I told you!" exclaimed Harry, thinking back at their conversation about Riddle's future plans. "No matter how powerful the lord, you can't control the freaking world, even after the chaos there are way too many people!"

Riddle stopped walking and faced Harry, his eyes shining wickedly.

"Ah but see; I don't have to control the people, I only have to control the lords-…"

"…who will then control their groups," finished Harry. It _did_ make sense, but…

"…Impossible. That's – simply impossible! Maybe with someone as weak as Fudge but…" he trailed off.

There were rumours about other lords, outside of the big cities, ruling over their own worlds, each one with different rules and more impregnable than the next.

And here was Riddle, younger than any lord Harry had ever heard of, standing on the border of a muddy field, just outside of a dirty town that glowed in the evening sun, claiming that he would take all of them down.

"Look at this worn-down city," mused Riddle, "the world is in ruins - help me rebuild it, Harry Potter, and I assure you there won't be a single boring moment in your life."

"What if I like boring moments?" asked Harry weakly. He could almost feel Riddle's words, flowing smoothly around him, entrap him tightly in his web.

Riddle leaned forward and lightly brushed Harry's cheek with the back of his hand.

"I can already hear the rumours that will spread through the country. The next group we'll fight will think they know what's coming, but they won't. Because we aren't going to be invisible again, but you'll come up with something new, won't you? Surprise them, surprise _me_ , Harry, again and again. Always rising to the next challenge, each one more exciting than the last, wouldn't you like it? There is no one who can best you in what you're doing, but you can surpass yourself. Don't you want to see what you are capable of, if you can fully exploit your potential?"

Harry's heart was racing and his breath came out shallow, he felt light headed and confused all the same. Whatever Riddle was doing, he did it expertly.

Harry managed to swallow and met Riddle's intense stare head-on.

"Actually, that just sounds like an awful load of work," he croaked out.

He earned a chuckle from Riddle. "Well, if you aren't up for the challenge…"

"Don't be silly, anytime, bring it on bastard!" hissed Harry offended.

"Was that a yes?" smirked Riddle.

Harry sobered a bit. "I-…I don't know."

Riddle shrugged, apparently unfazed with Harry's second refusal.

"Well, it's better than the 'no' I got last time, we're making progress."

"Bastard," grumbled Harry.

But Riddle only winked at him delighted and continued walking towards the city.

Harry found himself alone on the edge of a field that was covered in bodies, the muddy ground soaking his feet.

"Damn him," he muttered to the empty air.

.


	11. Chapter 11

The day after the challenge, Harry swore to himself to never use an unfinished invention ever again.

He had woken up, only to find himself almost paralyzed from his sore muscles. With gritted teeth, he had managed to stand up and examine his body. He was covered in nasty bruises and even some deeper cuts.

Apparently, his shield had indeed deflected the attacks, but somehow a part of the force was still transmitted to his body. Where the bullets had hit him the day before, were now circular blue bruises that hurt like hell, but at least weren't deadly.

He cursed Riddle for not giving him enough time to test and refine his shield. He was carefully putting back on his clothes, when he heard someone enter his shop.

"I'm closed for today," yelled Harry.

"I am not here to buy anything Mr Potter, a word if you pleased?"

Harry groaned silently when he recognised the voice and slowly walked to the front. "Mr Malfoy," he began, trying in vain to keep out his irritation, "please tell me your son isn't running around alone again."

Lucius' lips thinned in displeasure at the quip. "Rest assured, he is quite safe for the moment. No, I am here because my lord has requested your presence."

"Oh what the-… It hasn't even been _a day_ , tell him to give me a fucking break!"

To Lucius' credit, he didn't even react to Harry's outcry.

"I'm serious, tell him I'll come tomorrow, but not now."

"Then I am afraid I cannot leave," retorted Malfoy and took some more steps into his shop. He looked at a big wooden box and apparently contemplated whether to sit down or not and then decided against it when seeing the dust on the surface.

Harry stared at him. "You've got to be kidding me."

He could see Malfoy's eyes coming alive with determined malice. Harry wondered if annoying him had become the new sport among Voldemort's followers.

Harry wanted to convince himself that it was fine; Lucius could stand there the whole day if he liked to, but he hated it when someone was watching him and he sure as hell wouldn't go back to sleep while a stranger was in his house.

"I can't work while someone is breathing down my back."

Lucius only shrugged lightly. "You could offer me some tea."

What was _wrong_ with that family?

"How about a hot chocolate, your son wanted one desperately the other day. Ah, why I didn't give him one you ask? Well I was a bit _busy_ trying to keep him alive," hissed Harry annoyed and stormed out, even though his sore body protested against the quick movements.

It wasn't like he wanted to meet Riddle the next day, so he might as well get it over with.

.

* * *

.

Remus Lupin and Sirius Black had known each other for a very long time.

A most unlikely friendship between a rich popular kid and a silent one in ragged clothes, had proven to be the only thing they could count on throughout their lives. In many ways, their characters were polar opposites, but they had also perfected an impeccable synchronisation with each other.

That was why they both stopped simultaneously when they heard lord Dumbledore's voice from around the corner. Normally, they would go and greet him immediately, but something told them to stay out of sight.

"…heard you have not only found him, but didn't contact us for several years," whispered an unfamiliar voice urgently.

"Now, now lord Scrimgeour, no reason to unsettle the guild. The boy posed hardly any threat," replied Dumbledore in his calming manner.

"And that is exactly why it would have been wiser to act _then_ , not now that he apparently takes over London with only a handful of people!"

"There were other aspects I had to take into account. Not to mention it would have been a serious risk to simply act on a whim. Certain conditions had to be met first."

"So now they are? I can't really see it working though. You specifically told us you had him under control. We thought he joined your group, not that he is running around wildly, creating god knows what!"

"He is only a boy, and a lost-generation at that! I assure you, his survival is based on pure luck alone," reassured Dumbledore.

But Scrimgeour was not convinced in the least. "Everyone else of that cursed family died that day, there was no luck involved when he escaped those flames and disappeared! Besides, he knows his real name, he clearly remembers already way too much."

"He didn't seem to even recognise me Scrimgeour! Let alone make any connection between me and the guild," objected Dumbledore.

"This procrastination ends now Dumbledore! We have sacrificed too much to be ruined by some child. He _has_ to die. Tell one of your-…"

Dumbledore interrupted him firmly. "No. I most certainly will not. He would pose the same threat as the child does now. We have to do it without anyone else getting involved."

They were silent for a moment, before Scrimgeour conceded. "Very well. I am looking forward to meet him this afternoon then."

They both disappeared silently from the corridor.

Sirius and Remus looked at each other, both seeing the same shock in the other's eyes.

"Err…Do you think there's another kid running around and taking over the city?" asked Sirius uncomfortable.

"I am afraid the probability is non-existent."

They stood there, rooted on the spot behind the corner for a long time, neither saying a word, yet thinking the same.

For several blissful years they had everything they could wish for. Group phoenix was their beloved family, Dumbledore their deeply respected lord and Harry their dear friend – almost thought upon as their own child.

It was time to choose.

.

* * *

.

"Ah Harry, so glad you could make it."

Voldemort was sitting in his armchair like always, the opposite chair was currently occupied by Snape.

"I'd like you to meet Severus Snape, he is…supervising… Dumbledore's actions."

Snape swiftly stood up and shook Harry's hand without even batting an eyelash. Harry decided that the man was an incredible good actor.

"You mean he's a spy?" asked Harry after reminding himself that he had to act like he never met Snape.

"Please Harry, such a spiteful word. Severus is merely…reporting certain events to me."

"My lord has granted me information that you and lord phoenix have an unfinished business," said Snape curtly, "I will do my best to gather more information about this affair."

Harry snorted. "He is the only one that has an unfinished business, I don't remember doing something that would deserve his…attentions."

"I heard you refused his offer to join his group," remarked Snape.

Harry frowned. They both knew that Dumbledore most likely wanted to kill Harry because of what happened in the past, and while Voldemort probably already came to the same conclusion, Snape couldn't very well reveal that Harry knew anything about that. Instead, Snape had chosen to come up with another possible reason for Dumbledore's actions.

"I did," admitted Harry, "but he seemed very accepting and understanding."

"Lords don't take such refusals lightly," persisted Snape, and Harry wasn't sure if they were still talking about Dumbledore or about the man sitting in this very room.

"How come you can spy on Dumbledore without him getting suspicious?" inquired Harry, even though he already knew the answer.

"He lived in the same village as Dumbledore before the chaos," explained Riddle. Harry noted that he casually forgot to mention that he had lived there too.

Severus nodded. "I made him believe that I am merely here to reconnect with an old friend."

 _And that you have no idea what really happened to my parents_ , added Harry in his thoughts.

"But I actually called you here because of this," said Riddle and held up a piece of paper.

"Great, another letter. I hope that one is not for me."

"Well at least this time he recognised the object; he's learning quickly," grinned Riddle in Snape's direction.

He then waved at Snape in a dismissive manner and Snape bowed lightly before he left them alone.

Harry looked at Voldemort disapprovingly.

"What?" asked Riddle innocently.

"He bows? Seriously?"

"All my followers bow you silly child."

 _Well I sure as hell will neve-… wait, when did I decide to join?_ Harry sighed annoyed with himself.

"What is it this time?" he asked Riddle to distract himself.

"An invitation from a quite well-known lord to attend his ball."

Harry blinked. "His what?"

Riddle looked up from the letter and frowned at him. "He is holding a ball."

"And you are holding a letter," remarked Harry.

Riddle stared at him dumbfounded – Harry quite enjoyed the expression – before he began to chuckle.

"Ah yes, you wouldn't know what that is, would you? Poor little lost-generation."

Harry glared at him but said nothing. During the chaos, he never saw the use in learning old expressions and customs, but now that civilisation was slowly returning, he began to suspect that the veterans would try their best to re-evoke them.

"Maybe you should try to read a lexicon sometime instead of a science book," suggested Riddle, obviously enjoying Harry's lack of knowledge.

"I tried. I found it boring."

Riddle smirked, but to Harry's relief went on explaining.

"A ball is a social gathering with a selected group of people. They were often hosted by aristocrats in the past centuries. Balls are a platform for political scheming and general gossip, as well as formal dancing."

"Wait a sec…Are you telling me you got invited to a _dance_?" interrupted Harry. He couldn't help but grin at the ridiculousness of it.

"We."

"Huh?"

" _We_ got invited to a dance."

It took Harry several seconds to process what Riddle just said.

"They want _me_ there? Oh wait…please don't tell me I got one of those letters and didn't see it again! If someone else is out there waiting to beat me up over not reading their stupid-…"

"Relax, they only brought me a letter, but they specifically mention you in it. I guess they enjoyed your performance, but you aren't worthy enough to send you a personal invitation."

Harry hummed, not in the least bit insulted.

"I still think those pieces of paper are absurd. I mean, someone had to ride to this lord and tell him about the challenge and then ride the whole way again, just to give you that the very next day?"

"Like I already said; it is a tradition. Truthfully, I am not sure if they send me one to insult my age, or to show me their respect."

It was the second time that Riddle mentioned his own, rather young, age and the lack of respect from the older lords. He started to wonder if it really posed a bigger problem than he expected.

"So does that mean you officially moved up in their lords-ranking?"

"Not really, I believe they merely want to make sure I'm not a threat to them."

"And, are you?"

Riddle hummed ominously. "Who knows?"

"Well you do control a good part of London – unofficially at least."

"And once our dear friend Dumbledore is gone, it will be all of London. By then the powerful lords in the country will be more than a bit unsettled."

Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What exactly are you planning with group phoenix?"

Riddle sighed theatrically. "You know it would be so easy if you could just-…"

"No, I will not simply blow up their headquarters," interrupted Harry.

Riddle didn't even have the decency to look sorry.

"Ah yes your _friends._ "

He only quirked an eyebrow at Harry's death glare.

"You do realise I could just force you," he continued threateningly.

"I'd like to see you try," answered Harry, proud that he sounded much more self-assured than he really felt.

They stared at each other, both recalling what happened the last time Riddle tried to force Harry into something, before Harry let himself fall down in the empty armchair.

"Look…I know you only see me as a tool to achieve whatever crazy plan you have in your even crazier brain, and you know what? That's actually kind of fine by me. At least that way I know what I'm getting into. But I will not stand idly by while you are hurting people I care about, so forget whatever violent plan you have for group phoenix and take a more diplomatic route, or that paint will be the only thing you could use me for."

"Yes, yes. I had a feeling you would say that," said Riddle exasperated.

"You have feelings?" quipped Harry incredulously, but Riddle ignored him.

"You don't have to worry about your little friends, my 'more diplomatic' plan is already set in motion. I have no desire to fight a full-out war with half of London. Besides, I will need someone to lead this city and I certainly do not want Fudge for the job."

"What do you mean lead London? Who will?" asked Harry alarmed.

Riddle pointedly turned away from Harry and poured himself a drink.

"Guess."

"Riddle! I'm not in the mood for your games! Who do you want to lead London?"

The lord shot him a mildly indignant look. "For a genius, you sure are slow at grasping certain things, aren't you _Harry_. Fine, I'll give you a hint if you do something in return, that's only fair isn't it?"

"I already gave you a good part of London, what more do you want?"

Riddle slowly took a sip from his drink.

"Strip."

"Excuse me?!"

Riddle snorted amused. "Not that kind, you idiot. Your hair looks like you've never washed it in your entire life and there are more holes in your clothes than there is cloth. And I have a hard time naming your skin colour under all that dirt. Narcissa prepared a bath for you in the adjacent room which you'll take _now_ and leave your clothes here."

Harry gaped at him.

"If you think I'll undress in front of you, you are badly mistaken."

"Why Harry, you might be a lost-generation but you are an adult now, don't tell me you are shy?" teased Riddle.

Harry's breath hitched involuntarily and his body froze up. He abruptly stood up and walked stiffly to the door, where he paused to turn to Riddle.

"I'll take your stupid bath, but afterwards I expect some answers. Oh and if you're gone when I come back, I swear I'll blow this place up."

"I thought you liked the barkeeper?" smirked Riddle.

"Fuck off!" cried Harry and slammed the door shut.

* * *

Harry all but collapsed behind the closed door. That had been…close.

Clamped muscles, irregular breathing and a racing heartbeat…If he had to take a guess, his symptoms pointed directly to a panic attack. The question was, why?

He had never felt comfortable around other people, but Riddle took his uneasiness to a whole new level. But it wasn't the same uneasiness Harry felt when being around someone like Fudge or Dumbledore. With them, Harry felt almost a bit disgusted at their presence, but Voldemort? He seemed to experience an adrenaline rush whenever he was around the man. Harry had once read that people could become addicted to highly dangerous sports, did that mean..?

Harry shook his head vigorously. He refused to even think down that road.

He picked himself up and opened the adjacent door. A big wooden tub full with steaming hot water stood in the middle of the otherwise empty room. It only took Harry a split second to identify the women as Draco's mother. With her blonde hair and fair complexion, Narcissa – like the rest of the Malfoy's – looked out of place in such a worn-down inn.

"I left a new set of clothes on the floor over there. My lord kindly urges you to wear them."

With that, Narcissa left Harry alone.

Harry sighed and approached the tub suspiciously. He only ever washed himself when the stench became too dominant. But even then he didn't use much more than a wet towel.

He didn't like how Riddle got him to take a bath, but he wasn't foolish enough to waste such luxury.

He carefully stepped out of his clothes and entered the tub. The hot water did wonders to his battered body. He closed his eyes blissfully for a moment, before he began to scrub himself. He wouldn't want to give Riddle the satisfaction to know that he actually enjoyed it.

Several long minutes later, the water had taken on a brownish colour and Harry decided it would be contra productive if he stayed in it any longer.

The clothes fit him surprisingly well. It was an odd feeling for Harry, since he was used to layers of oversized clothes. They weren't new clothes but definitely in a better state than his old ones. Harry still decided to keep his old shoes and jacket.

When he exited the room, he heard Riddle's voice coming from downstairs. He moved to the staircase and looked down.

"…and this is the list of the smaller groups that I told you about my lord. Should they be allowed to stay independent, or should I insist on a fusion?"

Harry could see Fudge handing Voldemort several stacks of papers. He tried to read Fudge's expression and was surprised when he couldn't detect any malice or reluctance. Instead, Fudge seemed almost excited and radiated a kind of satisfaction that came from being busy.

"I don't care as long as you maintain firm control over all of them. If that is easier with a fusion…"

"No, no my lord! Not at all, I can handle them just fine. I merely wanted to-…"

"That would be all Fudge," dismissed Riddle. He sounded bored and didn't even look at Fudge while he bowed – much deeper than Snape – and hurriedly left the inn.

When he looked up from the papers, his eyes met Harry's and he walked up the stairs.

"Hmm…" he made, while assessing him.

Harry squirmed under his intense gaze.

"What?!" he hissed.

"Better," commented Riddle and walked back in his room.

Harry huffed annoyed and followed him. He could have sworn he heard Riddle murmur, "much better," under his breath.

"Fudge seemed happy," he began, when Riddle continued to ignore him.

"Of course he is."

"How did you manage that within just a day?"

"By being me."

Harry couldn't hold back his laughter at the sheer audacity of the man.

That finally got Riddle to look up. "Is something funny, _Harry_?"

"You are," shrugged Harry.

Riddle looked amused and insulted at the same time. "I've been described in many different words, but I doubt 'funny' was ever one of them."

Harry shrugged again and uninvited filled himself a glass of water.

"You owe me a hint Riddle."

"Ah yes…Let me think…Lupin."

Harry spurted water all over himself.

"Wha- That's not a hint!"

"With your thick head we would still be here tomorrow."

"You want Remus to-… No way! Forget it Riddle! Get it out of your head now!"

"Well, his little friend can help him too if he wants."

This just kept getting better and better. Harry didn't even notice that he had leapt to his feet in protest.

"Sirius?! He- Wait how do you even know him?"

"He's one of the best fighters group phoenix has, of course I have heard of him."

"But- they- I-…" sputtered Harry.

Riddle sighed. "Calm down will you? Just _think_. We can't win a physical fight against group phoenix, but we don't need to. Lupin is already highly respected among the group, the power change will go by practically unnoticed."

Harry felt the strong need to defend his friends.

"There is absolutely _no way_ Remus and Sirius would betray their lord in any way! They are kind-hearted and loyal and-…"

"…and that's exactly why they will."

"You're not making any sense! Have you talked to them about it? I swear if you-…"

"I don't need to, you genius. I told you; the plan is already set in motion, _without_ me doing anything. You already did all the work," smirked Riddle, pleased with himself.

" _Me_?! I tried to keep them out of this mess, I didn't do anything!"

"You exist."

Defeated, Harry fell back down in the chair. "That's your answer for everything isn't it?"

"Consider this my hint. You exist, Dumbledore exists, figure out the rest."

"I really can't see what you're getting at."

"The laws of physics are not the only things you can manipulate Harry. If you know where to look, you'll find that human nature is far more powerful than anything your science could come up with. The only thing you have to do is predict their actions and act accordingly."

"That's exactly what I expected a manipulative bastard to say, but I am _not_ like that," objected Harry.

Riddle chuckled darkly. "Oh no _Harry_ , you are actually much worse than I am."

Harry was left speechless at that.

"Well, at least you would be, but you don't seem to have any notion of what you are doing…Just wait a little and your friends will show you just how strongly your existence can change the actions of other people."

Harry threw his hands in the air exasperated.

"Yes I exist, I'm sorry, okay? Could you stop rubbing it in my face like that?"

"You're hopeless," stated Riddle, sounding mildly astonished, "But we are getting off topic again."

He waved the letter in front of Harry.

"One week."

"Huh?"

"In order to arrive in time, we have to depart by the end of this week. You have 6 days to give me a proper answer."

Harry almost asked what answer he meant, but if he was honest with himself he already knew. Riddle gave him an ultimatum to decide if he wanted to join him. If he went with them, there would be no way to turn back.

"You want to take over London in _one week_?"

"I think it won't take much more than a few days. In fact, Severus was pretty certain that it would start today."

"Start? What starts? Stop speaking in riddle's, Riddle!"

"Go home Harry. You'll see what I mean soon. You are armed I hope?"

"Armed? Err-…" Harry checked his jacket. He still had the shield with a little bit of energy left, as well as the pain-generator he used on Riddle. There was also a smoke-bomb and two little explosives.

He had a really bad feeling about this situation. There wasn't really anything he could do about it though. Riddle seemed determined not to tell him more and Harry certainly didn't want to stay longer than needed.

Warily, his bad feeling growing with every step he took, he moved to the door. He looked back. Riddle was studying the papers Fudge had brought him.

"Have a nice day," murmured Riddle, without taking his eyes of the papers.

That's it, thought Harry after closing the door behind him. If Riddle was wishing him a nice day, something absolutely terrifying was about to happen.

He stepped out of the inn. A chilly breeze made him shudder and he promised himself that he would change back into his layers of oversized clothes as soon as he got home. They might not flatter him, but at least they were warmer.

His sinking feeling wouldn't go away, no matter how hard he tried to not think about it. He tried to convince himself that – while everything was far from being fine – he had been in bad situations all the time over the past weeks. Seriously, what was the worst thing that could happen?

"Harry my boy!"

He froze alarmed. None other than lord phoenix walked towards him from a side alley, smiling amiably at him.

"A wonderful day to you dear boy! Such pleasure to see you again, Sirius and Remus just won't stop talking about your many talents. Say, would you care for a cup of hot tea with me? This weather is really getting to my old age, and I was hoping to have some company."

Dumbledore smiled at him expectantly.

Riddle, that _bastard_. He had seriously sent Harry straight into Dumbledore's arms without any warning - or plan for that matter.

At least he could be certain that someone knew where he was, in case things got bad with Dumbledore.

Considering that that someone was Riddle, Harry wasn't sure if it was such a good thing after all.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, now comes random rambling from my side. It will hopefully clarify some points in Harry and Tom's conversation. If you aren't all that interested just skip it ;)
> 
> Tom is described as a master manipulator, who can read and predict people easily and use them to his advantage. What always bothered me is that Voldemort seems completely ignorant of love and friendship. I am not saying the Tom in my fic thinks of love as anything but a weakness (or is capable to feel it for that matter), but he knows exactly how far people would go for their loved ones and that it is indeed a considerable force. In the books, he refuses to acknowledge love as a weapon, but here he certainly does and is not afraid to use it.
> 
> Harry on the other hand grew up in a world where everyone looked only after themselves and even loving parents abandoned their children. He does not understand that love and friendship can trigger the most selfless actions in humans. Nor does he know that people could actually go to such extremes _for him_. However, contrary to Tom he feels and gives love quite easily (therefore his saving-people thing is still here). He just doesn't understand that his friends are not merely nice to him but return his love and would do anything to help him.
> 
> What Riddle is trying to tell Harry is that by making his friends love him, he 'manipulates' their actions in a much deeper way than he ever could with superficial words.


	12. Chapter 12

"Harry my boy, I'd like you to meet an old friend of mine, lord Scrimgeour."

Harry had grudgingly followed Dumbledore back to phoenix's headquarters and walked now into the room with a distinctive feeling of dread.

A tall man with broad shoulders and a face marked with harsh life experience stood in front of the fireplace.

Harry immediately knew that this lord was nothing like Fudge. While lord Scrimgeour might not have had the same presence as Voldemort, there was a proud fierceness in his eyes that did not tolerate mistakes. He also couldn't deny that – while not nearly as old as Dumbledore – his advanced age did give him an air of authority that Riddle had to create in other ways.

"Mr Potter, so nice to see such youth once again!"

Scrimgeour smiled at him, but to Harry it seemed more like feral grin.

"Lord Scrimgeour, I…don't think I had the pleasure to meet you before. You are from out of town?"

"I am indeed. I had meant to visit Albus for quite some time now. When I heard about the recent, spectacular challenge in London, I simply couldn't stay at home any longer. Did you have the time to talk to your lord yet?"

Harry had to stop himself from gaping. "He's not-…whatever, yes I just came from there actually."

"Ah I see. Has he mentioned my invitation perhaps?"

Harry frowned confused. "Invitation? Oh so that was you! Yes, he also had to explain the meaning of a ball to me. I'm afraid I would insult everyone in the room if I actually showed up there, so, you see I think it would be polite for me to decli-"

"Nonsense! Look at you young man; youthful, clean, fittingly dressed – it would be a shame not to have you there!" interrupted Scrimgeour cheerfully.

 _Clean and-_ Riddle that bastard! Seriously, did he know the future?!

Scrimgeour looked at him expectantly, awaiting his answer, and Harry forced his brain to form coherent words.

"I, err…guess it would be an interesting and new experience milord."

"Excellent! It is so rare to see such a young face these days, isn't it Albus? Such tragedy to lose a whole generation… At one point I feared the chaos would last so long that we oldies would lose the ability to reproduce."

They both laughed at that. Harry on the other hand could not see the joke. Hell, maybe it would have been better if that had happened. At least then people wouldn't have been forced to live in this wrecked world.

Scrimgeour continued, oblivious to Harry's growing displeasure.

"But luckily it ended just at the right time, it all worked out in the end."

_Worked out? The world was shattered and crops nowadays grow on the millions of dead bodies, what part of that 'worked out'?_

"Please, have some tea Harry," smiled Dumbledore and pressed a steaming cup of tea in Harry's hands. Harry decided to wait for it to cool down a little.

"So tell me Harry, how did you meet our young Tom?" asked Dumbledore casually.

Tom. He called Voldemort by his real name. He was either trying to get Harry to admit he knew it too, or purposely going against Riddle's wish not to be called by his old name. Harry knew Voldemort's name because the man himself had told him so, but Dumbledore would take it as proof that Harry remembered his past.

" _Young_ Tom sir? I only know the barkeeper of the local inn who goes by that name…But I happen to know that he makes jokes about his old age on a regular basis."

Dumbledore's smile never wavered, although his eyes never left Harry's face. After a tense moment he exchanged a meaningful look with Scrimgeour.

Just great. So the other powerful lord Riddle was talking about also took part in Harry-hunting.

"I meant lord Voldemort, Harry," tried Dumbledore once again, obviously trying to get at least some reaction out of him.

Harry tried to look as innocent and childish as he could without overdoing it. "His name's Tom? How do you know that sir?"

"Ah you see, I have known Tom since before the chaos…I was heartbroken when the worldwide confusion forced us into different directions. He was so young and fragile…I almost gave up hope to ever see the sweet child again."

Harry snorted internally. Said fragile child was now powerful lord, taking over half of London. Now _that_ must have been a shock.

People didn't like it when their weak acquaintances suddenly overpowered them. What if Dumbledore's grudge wasn't against Harry, but directed at Riddle? As far as Harry knew, he had no reason to consider a young non-member a threat, Voldemort on the other hand…

But there also was his disturbing past…Still, Dumbledore could have killed Harry long ago, but he waited for Riddle. So what if his goal wasn't Harry's death, but Riddle's rejoice in killing Harry? Riddle seemed quite certain that Dumbledore took his desire for revenge for granted.

There were so many possibilities but none of them made really sense to Harry. He blew on his hot tea to stall some time.

That was when he heard the low fizzling and saw that his tea was almost unnoticeably bubbling. Something was dissolving in his tea.

Great. So much for his theory that Dumbledore didn't actually have something against him.

He was standing in a small room with two powerful lords and a cup of poisoned tea. Why did these things always happen to him?

"Is something wrong Mr Potter?" asked Scrimgeour and even managed to sound appropriately worried.

Harry considered his options.

He could use the inventions he had with him and run for it. That however would destroy any chance of finding out about his past, plus Dumbledore would be certain that Harry knew more than he should. Until now, Dumbledore had no reason to force him, since Harry had shown him nothing but trust.

He could try to talk his way out of the situation and not take anything Dumbledore offered him. But then no progress would have been made and they would both be stuck in pretending nothing ever happened.

Or, Harry could just drink the damn tea. That probably would not result in his immediate death, but most certainly bring him a step closer to hell. It also meant that he had to trust Riddle to keep his word. Worse, he had to wait helplessly until Riddle of all people came to his rescue. If he came at all.

Damn it all, his friends had always told him that he was too curious for his own good. He wasn't doing this for Riddle, he was doing it because he _wanted_ to know what happened to him, to Snape's selfless love and to his parents.

Time to test the value of a madman's promise.

He took several large gulps of his tea and smiled at Dumbledore. Game on.

"Excellent tea milord - how many hours until my death?"

Dumbledore's eyes widened a bit, while Scrimgeour took a sharp intake of breath.

To Harry's surprise, his following scowl was directed at Dumbledore. "What did you do Albus?"

But Dumbledore ignored him and smiled almost sadly at Harry.

"Ah yes, a sharp mind. My poor boy, your DNA is cursed. Why could you not just have turned out stupid?"

"Albus, what is going on? This is not what we agreed on!" interrupted Scrimgeour furiously, but once again got ignored.

"When I first met you after all this years, I thought it would be okay, I thought maybe…but you turned out exactly like them. And you refuse to die! No man should fight his destiny so hard child!"

The world slowly began to tilt around Harry and everything became out of focus. He could feel his eyelids getting heavier. He knew the drug would put him to sleep no matter how hard he tried to stay awake.

"Death is something all of our destinies have in common sir, I just didn't expect mine to be so early and for no apparent reason," he forced out.

"No reason?! NO REASON?! You almost destroyed everything we worked so hard for!"

"Oookay, how comes everyone blames a freaking baby for _everything_ that happened? And wha-…"

Harry collapsed in mid sentence as the drug took over completely. The last thing his mind registered was Scrimgeour yelling something at Dumbledore.

.

* * *

.

"I strongly disapprove of this madness Sirius!" whispered Remus urgently while almost running to keep up with his friend. His eyes hastily darted in all directions to look out for any possible eavesdropper.

"It's not madness, it's just…unrefined," replied Sirius offhandedly.

"Unre-…Sirius it's not even the beginning of a plan!"

"Bah screw planning, we'll just take it step by step 'kay?"

"No it's _not_ okay. We are just two people! Something like that has to be approved of at least half of our members! Do you even understand what the consequences for our group would be if we pull something like that off alone?"

Sirius stopped abruptly and turned to Remus.

"I do. Do you understand what will happen to Harry if we don't go _right now_?"

Remus agitated ranked his hands through his hair.

"I will kill him with my own hands if I have to, but god damnit, Sirius if we go in there-…"

"That won't be necessary," interrupted a calm voice behind them.

Remus and Sirius whirled around. Upon seeing the blade in the man's hands, Sirius immediately grabbed for his sword, but Remus stopped him.

"Lord Voldemort!"

Sirius gaped at Remus. "Wait, _that_ lord Voldemort?!"

He assessed the man in front of him and took some steps towards him while poking his sword at the lord's chest.

"Hey, if Harry's in that mess because of y-…"

"Jeez Sirius calm down!" hissed Remus.

"I am calm! Just setting some ground rules here. Oh and if you dare to touch him in any way not approp-…"

"Sirius! Not now!"

"What? Why not? You said Harry didn't have a clue! Somebody ought to keep perv-…"

"If you are quite done," interrupted Voldemort unfazed, "I believe I might be of assistance to your problem."

"We can take care of this mess ourselves thank you ve-"

"Sirius…" warned Remus again.

"Sorry he pisses me off," stated Sirius, but he was already grinning despite of what he said.

"If you two take on Dumbledore alone and it does not end well, you will stand against your former friends who will assume that you betrayed your lord to seek more power. However, all you have to do is keep anyone from entering this room while I'm in there. Whether you will tell your group what really happened afterwards or make it look like your former lord fell during a sneak attack, is up to you."

Remus and Sirius exchanged looks.

"Well, it's at least the beginning of a plan," agreed Remus.

"Hmph, I don't lik-"

"Excellent," interrupted Voldemort and strode past them, "and remember, don't let anyone under any circumstances enter this room."

Then he opened the door and went in himself.

The two friends left in the corridor stared at the closed door.

"Wait…How does he know Harry's in there?" asked Sirius confused.

.

* * *

.

Harry woke up with a headache, as expected, and immediately tried to reach for his weapons, when he realised that he could not move.

He was lying on what appeared to be a very uncomfortable, cold stone, with his hands and feet tied to the four edges.

The room he was currently in was large, chilly but with no windows and barely lit with torches. In other words, it looked like straight out of that pictures book about medieval castles Harry once read. From the page about torturing cellars of course.

"You don't seem surprised," came Dumbledore's voice from somewhere behind him.

"Well, considering your old age…I guessed you might fancy something like that."

Dumbledore chuckled. The fact that the sound came from a completely other part of the room, somehow creeped Harry even more out. But since Dumbledore had not harmed him in any way, yet, he decided to just keep talking. Hopefully the lord would start talking too, preferably before he killed Harry.

"The only thing that surprises me is that I'm not dead yet. I didn't know you liked to torture people in your cellar, lord phoenix."

"Only occasionally," joked Dumbledore jovially.

"Torture is a tool to make people talk, I have absolutely nothing to say that you wouldn't already know," continued Harry.

"Oh come now my boy, we both know that's not true. But not to worry; the ropes are more of a safety measure, I don't plan to needlessly harm you. I just had to make sure your hands are where I can see them."

"It's also pretty convenient to kill me," remarked Harry drily.

Dumbledore stepped closer, so that Harry could see him now, hovering above him.

"Please my boy, don't take this personally. You were just…born under all the wrong circumstances."

Harry snorted. "Okay cut the crap. I know you don't believe me but I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about. The only thing I know about my past is what S-…Riddle told me. _After_ he almost strangled me to death. So can you please tell me why the fuck my existence is such a problem?!"

"With a mind like yours, you must remember something."

"I remember a fire! I was one year old! What did you expect?"

"I expected you to die when you were a baby!" spat Dumbledore, losing his composure for the first time.

It was as if a friendly mask had been replaced with an ugly, scary one. Harry knew it was probably dangerous to bait him so much, but he had to push Dumbledore to the point where the old man would become lost in his talk.

"Yes in the fire but I-"

"No you stupid boy you should have died long before that! That mixture should have killed anybody, I created it myself! It would have been slow, Harry, slow and painless. An innocent sacrifice for the sake of humanity, is that really too much?"

_Mixture? What was he-_

" _You_ told my father to give me those pills? Wait…they should have killed me? But I thought-…"

"Hah see? So you do remember!" exclaimed Dumbledore triumphant.

"No I-…"

Shit. He really hoped Dumbledore would be dealt with today, but as long as he couldn't be sure, he had to protect Snape. If Dumbledore found out about him…Things would become even messier.

"What does it matter if I do? I still don't understand why you would want to kill a baby!"

"I didn't want to kill a baby, but we had to stop her, _I_ had to stop her. I knew when I met you and you didn't show any reaction that you didn't recognise me, but they wanted to make sure. We worked so hard to stand where we are, one lost-generation would not be such a huge sacrifice. But I didn't kill you, did I? I let you live right here in the city! I'm not the bad guy here Harry, you are just cursed to have been born into that family!"

So Dumbledore actually protected him from the others? Whoever they were. As for killing him as a baby…Apparently this 'renovation guild' Snape had told him about had more blood on their hands than they originally thought.

Harry decided he could think about all that later, for now he just had to make sure that Dumbledore told him everything.

"Stop her? Are you talking about my mother? And who is they?"

"Yes, yes, of course your mother. Sweet, perfect Lily and her brilliant mind…Always so selfless and determined to save lives. Many started to research against the starvation, but only she continued after the world was already changing. But then she had _you_."

He pointed accusingly at Harry. His eyes had become glassy and distant, which confirmed Harry's suspicion that people really did lose themselves in their explanation before killing their target.

"We thought now that she had a son, surely she had to stop, but no, she abandoned you. Left you with Merope's kid and a husband she didn't even know anymore. She told herself you were going to be just fine…And things actually were just fine, can you believe that unfairness? So we had to change it, we had to stop her. She was willing to sacrifice the joys of motherhood and her marriage for her research, but would she be willing to sacrifice the life of her own son? No…It would have broken her. She wouldn't have had the strength to continue. But we couldn't just kill you. We had to make it look as if you were slowly but surely slipping away due to her negligence. It would have showed her that the research had killed her child. But you refused to die! Why didn't you die?"

"You thought Lily would stop after I died? But why…"

Why would she do that? For the first time after hearing about his parents from Snape, Harry felt the longing to meet them. Did she love him that much despite having so little time for him? Had his father loved him too once?

"Oh but it doesn't stop there no! You didn't just survive the pills, they made you into…well, this! We didn't trust James enough to let him join us completely but we did see that he shared our ideals and our dreams. He understood that civilisation had to be destroyed before we could rebuild and shape the world with our own rules. But he was selfish! We wanted to guide humanity, we wanted to lead them, but he…he only cared about intelligence and his great scientific breakthrough. What does it matter, hmm? They don't have to be intelligent, we don't care about that, we'll save everyone no matter what their strength is. Intelligent people are bothersome anyway, you never know what they are plotting in their brains."

"Save? What the fuck are you talking about? You're completely mad!"

"We were very different sorts of people. Some prayed to a god others didn't care one bit, but we all felt it; it was time, humanity had to change and we would be the ones helping with its rebirth!"

Harry was relieved that he was already laying, otherwise he might have thrown up just from hearing Dumbledore's words. Could humans really become that cruel to achieve their goals?

"You all _felt_ like millions of people had to die?!"

"We almost failed because of a one year old! You almost destroyed everything and innocents had to die because you refused to.

"Oh _now_ you care about innocent people?"

"Merope's lost created _him_. You always create problems!"

"Him? You lost me again"

He hadn't though. Harry knew exactly who Dumbledore was referring to.

"Tom Riddle. Lord Voldemort. Whatever you want to call him. He wasn't supposed to survive the chaos either but fine, fine. But did he just survive like any other man? No! He became a lord and has taken over half the city already! I knew that boy could be trouble. But I made sure his attention would stay focused on his hate for you. I thought if I brought you to him and he would finally have his revenge he would lose his focus and therefore his reason to live. But you walked out of there alive! Again!"

"So after you couldn't use me to stop my mother, you made sure the fire would be blamed on me and Riddle would seek revenge? You know… It might have worked out but you forgot one thing Dumbledore; people can change."

Dumbledore shook his head vehemently. "Not him. You only have to look into his eyes to know he's evil!"

Harry might have agreed that there was something about Riddle that wasn't exactly sane, and he might indeed have a cold stone as a heart but that was because he was forced to live through such horrible and violent times! Unlike Harry, Riddle was already old enough to understand exactly what was going on. Harry just never knew anything else.

"You and your sick guild is evil! You plunged the world into pure chaos! You forced parents to abandon their beloved children! You didn't guide humanity towards the next level, you converted them back into savages!"

He knew he had said something seriously wrong when Dumbledore's distant gaze zoomed back in on him and the present.

"I never mentioned the guild."

"I-…"

"They were right all along, you managed to connect my actions with the guild. No one can know about us, not until our goals are achieved."

He disappeared shortly from Harry's field of vision. When he returned again, Harry knew his time was up.

"Woah easy there! What are you doing with the knife old man?"

Dumbledore looked at him with his infuriating patronizing look.

"I didn't want to kill you my boy. When you were a baby it was a necessity and when you landed in London I did not saw the need to kill you despite what the others said. You were just a weak, lost-generation after all. But you gradually showed just what my own pills helped to create and I realised that you were too dangerous to be left alone."

Harry frantically tried to think of something that would make him start talking again.

"And you couldn't order someone else to kill me because nobody should see you for the murderer you really are."

"When Tom Riddle came into town I thought now surely, I would have seen the last of you, but once again you escaped your destiny. This will end now, it has to. And if I am the one that has to live with the guilt of murder then so be it."

"For the last time – you already killed millions!"

Dumbledore raised the knife directly above Harry's heart.

There was no gentle twinkle in his eyes anymore, only cold determination. Harry tried to subdue the panic that was rising in his chest. His life might have been harsh and often lonely, but it was still precious to him. He would have no qualms to go down fighting, but laying helplessly in this cold cellar with a knife above his heart, was not how he wanted to go.

"Wait a sec! You haven't told me everything yet! Who belongs to that guild? Why do they still want me dead even though you managed to stop my mother?"

"You don't have to worry about those things anymore child, it's over now."

Harry saw Dumbledore's arm muscles tighten and closed his eyes shut.

"On the contrary…It has just begun," came a cold voice from behind Harry.

And for the first time since meeting him, Harry was glad to hear Riddle's voice.

.


	13. Chapter 13

"Long time no see, Dumbledore."

Harry was so relieved to hear that smug voice, he wanted to laugh. Alas, he knew laughing would not improve his situation.

"How generous of you to drop by Riddle," he said instead, even though all he could see was Dumbledore's face and the knife mere inches away from his racing heart.

Before Riddle had any chance to reply, Dumbledore lifted the knife once again, ready to plunge it back down.

"Stay where you are Tom, and don't even think about drawing your sword, or I'll kill him right in front of your eyes."

Harry wasn't sure if the drugs were still affecting him or if all the adrenaline had rendered him slightly mental, but he could swear he _heard_ Riddle grin.

"And what makes you think I care about him?"

"Oh I'm completely fine, thanks for asking," replied Harry drily, "it's really comfortable here."

He was dearly hoping that Riddle was bluffing. There was absolutely nothing in his voice that gave him away, but he also didn't come any closer.

"How long have you been standing there Tom?" asked Dumbledore. He sounded a bit weary now, he probably knew that Voldemort wouldn't take the truth about his parents too well.

"Almost since the beginning."

"And you just waited for him to kill me?!" Really, the nerves that man had…

Riddle appeared in Harry's field of vision. While he was still keeping the same distance, he had moved so he wasn't standing behind Harry's head anymore.

"I contemplated waiting until _after_ he killed you…But then I thought it would be a shame to let you die before you could tell me how you knew about the past."

Uh-oh, he sounded seriously pissed.

"I, err-…Dumble-"

"You still have the gall to lie to me boy? You knew about the fire and your parents' research _before_ he mentioned any of those things."

Harry could not believe that he was laying in some secret cellar, tied down on an altar, with a knife above his heart and Riddle's biggest problem was that Harry might have known more than he should.

"You honestly want to talk about this _now_?"

"I guess it can wait."

He drew his sword and Dumbledore's muscles tightened once again.

"I told you not to draw your sword!"

"I don't give a damn about what you tell me Dumbledore. The only thing I want to hear from you is why my mother had to die."

Harry was stunned at Riddle's reaction. With any other human being, it would be a completely comprehensible response, but to think that Riddle actually could act like a normal human was…shocking.

"I-…Tom my dear boy, you said you heard everything…She was a tragic fatality! If she hadn't gotten so close to the Potters-…"

"I don't care about that! I don't care about your pathetic plans or your screwed sense of justice. I want to know who is responsible for my mother's death!"

Harry glanced at Dumbledore and could see that the old man tried to hide his own bafflement at Riddle's outburst, but failed.

"You saw the surveillance tape, Har-…"

"Don't you dare try and sell me the same story from twenty years ago. I'm not a child anymore, I can see a scheme when there are too many coincidences. Tell me everything or I swear, I _will_ tear your guts out."

He would not have thought it possible, but in this moment Harry pitied Dumbledore for when Riddle would get his hands on him.

Suddenly, Dumbledore held the knife with only one hand, while the other held a round object that was strangely familiar to Harry.

"Hey that's _my_ smoke-bomb!" cried Harry indignantly when he recognised the stolen object.

Dumbledore let go of both things in his hands and time seemed to slow down.

Harry somehow registered that the falling knife - while not exactly forced down his chest - still looked awfully sharp and still pointed at his heart.

Another part of his brain flooded him with information about the creation of his smoke-bomb and for reasons unknown to Harry, he felt the need to warn Riddle instead of crying for help.

"Close your eyes!" he managed to yell, before the room exploded with white smoke.

Harry pressed his eyes close and held his breath. He could feel the cool smoke settling on his skin and silently counted to twenty-two.

Then he carefully breathed in and when the air did not irritate his throat, he decided that the smoke was gone. He slowly opened his eyes and gasped when he saw another hand holding the knife, stopping it barely from its fall into Harry's chest.

Riddle had his eyes closed but apparently hadn't held his breath like Harry did and was coughing violently.

"You didn't mention to stop breathing too," he coughed.

"There was no time! The irritation will pass, but the smoke would have blinded you for at least a week," Harry defended himself, while trying to wrap his head around the fact that Riddle just might have saved his life.

Riddle threw away the knife and disappeared from Harry's field of vision.

"Anyway, you made him run away - good job in getting more information Riddle."

"Oh I will get my answers," replied Riddle, and Harry realised with shock that his voice was suddenly far away.

"Wha-…Where do you think you're going?! At least cut those goddamn ropes! Hey Riddle!"

But Harry didn't get an answer. Instead the sound of Riddle's footsteps disappeared completely, leaving Harry alone in the cellar, still tied down on all four limbs.

"Are you fucking serious?!"

He heard a door open somewhere behind him and slightly above. Then footsteps descending down a set of stairs.

"I don't think this is a good idea, you heard hi-…Harry!"

Relief rushed once again through Harry when he recognised the voices of his friends.

"Oh my god Harry, are you hurt?" Sirius' face appeared above Harry's head.

"Sirius! Remus! Thank god you're here, hurry you have to-…"

Harry stopped short when Remus yanked at the ropes around his right foot.

"No don't worry about me, listen, I think Voldemort will do something really stupid if we don't stop him, you have to go after him!"

"First, we have to get you out of here Harry," objected Sirius firmly.

"No, don't you see? He will kill Dumbledore!"

"We know," said Remus calmly and picked up the knife Riddle had thrown away.

"Wha-…But he's your lord!" exclaimed Harry stunned.

"Not anymore." Remus managed to cut through the ropes that had tied his feet.

"You met him once Remus! How could you choose him over your lord so easily?"

"We are not choosing him Harry, we are choosing you," smiled Remus. He was talking really slow and clear now, as if Harry was a little kid who didn't understand what he was saying.

"B-But…Why?" Harry was growing more and more confused. He had never done anything to deserve this. It was true that he didn't deserve to be slaughtered on an altar, but he also didn't deserve their loyalty. Harry's throat dried out and his chest tightened almost painfully at their calm determination to put him above anything else.

Sirius was sincerely moved by Harry's shocked reaction. "Remus, I will not leave this thoroughly innocent child with that insane lord!"

"Oh I think they'll make a good team."

"What the-…" protested Harry.

"We have to get you out of here. We don't know how our group will take the news about Dumbledore's true nature. They might be blinded by their loyalty and blame you for this whole mess," urged Sirius.

"Ah yes, blame Harry Potter, that always works out fine," remarked Harry drily.

Remus finally managed to get his arms free too and Harry was able to climb down and stand straight, even though his body hurt even more than this morning. He saw now that the room ended in a long and dark corridor on one end, while Remus and Sirius had come from the door behind him.

He turned to his friends, who tried to manoeuvre him to the stairs that led out of the cellar.

"I can't just run away now."

Remus sighed. "I feared as much."

"Be careful, you hear me?" warned Sirius worried, "we will try and convince our group from the truth but…"

"I know. Thank you. For everything."

Harry whirled around and ran towards the dark corridor. He knew that if he stayed any longer, he would not be able to leave them behind. His only hope was that all of them made it out alive somehow.

The corridor seemed endless. One could hardly see a thing and Harry had to catch himself several times from falling face first on the stone ground.

After several turns – thankfully no junctions – and different rooms which were all empty, he could see a fully illuminated room at the end. The ground became less even and the corridor led him upwards now, and Harry realised that the light he was seeing came from a window.

He sprinted the last meters and came to a slithering stop in the middle of the room. At first he thought this room was empty too, but then he heard someone choking behind him.

He spun around and froze for a moment completely shocked, before his brain had caught up on what it was seeing and he sprang into action.

"Riddle what the _fuck_ do you think you are doing?!"

Dumbledore's body lay forgotten in the corner to Harry's left, while Voldemort was strangling Snape to his right.

Riddle's face was contorted in pure anger and his eyes glinted with hate and pain. "How could you…how dare you two-faced-..."

"Are you crazy?! Unhand him right now! You are killing him!" yelled Harry and took some more steps in their direction, although he was unsure of what he could do to make him stop. Harry knew that he was physically at a huge disadvantage, especially now that Riddle was completely lost in rage.

"I hope so, even though you deserve a much more painful death Snape," spat Riddle.

Snape wasn't even trying to defend himself. He hung still in Voldemort's grip while his pale face slowly changed from white to red to white again. Only the choking noises told Harry that the man was alive at all.

"I hope for you that you're little moment of revenge was sweet Snape, because it will be your last."

Harry glanced back at Dumbledore's body. A dagger stuck out of his chest and his clothes were soaked with blood.

The only reason why Riddle would be this angry was if he had not gotten his answers. Nor was he the one that killed Dumbledore, of that much Harry was sure.

He had no idea how Snape could have possibly known or predicted that Dumbledore would come through here alone, but he wasn't all that surprised. The only thing that Harry found mildly surprising was the fact that Snape had killed Dumbledore, even though he knew exactly what consequences would await him.

He turned back to the two men. Riddle very much looked like he did when he was strangling Harry back at the inn, only…more. There was more hate, more rage and with horror Harry realised there was something akin to desperation in his eyes.

No matter how hard he tried to hide it, there was a part of Riddle that was still purely human. If Harry had to take a guess, these tender feelings originated from Riddle's childhood. It seemed that even if a man was forced through hell, he would still be able to remember his better days. If that was a blessing or a curse, Harry did not know.

Riddle's happy days had ended abruptly and violent. And now Snape had taken away any chance for him to put an end to this affair and let him seal his past once and for all.

Then again…Snape too had suffered from his past. Apparently enough to get his vengeance on the cost of his life.

Riddle was choking Snape so hard now, that Harry feared he would snap his neck.

"Stop it! You told me you are a man of control, you told me your desire for revenge made you weak! You're doing it again Riddle, you are in the same pathetic state that you were so many years ago!"

Riddle made no inclination that he had noticed that Harry was talking to him. This would not work, the man was beyond any reason. If Harry wanted to save Snape's life, he needed something that would literally shock Riddle out of his haze. Something that he wanted, yet not expected to hear, something-…

"I'll join you."

Riddle froze. There was still way too much pressure on Snape's throat for Harry's liking, but at least Riddle seemed to take note of his surroundings once again.

Slowly, his red eyes narrowed, but he kept them trained on Snape.

"This is hardly the time, or the place, for that particular conversation," he breathed out.

Harry noted with relief that a hint of his usual smugness had returned in his tone.

"I know. I just needed something to snap you out of your pathetic state."

Riddle didn't reply for several seconds and Harry became more and more nervous. If he didn't remove those hands soon…

"Mr Potter, are you _manipulating_ me?"

Harry grinned weakly. "I learnt from the best."

Riddle slowly let go of Snape's throat.

"Thank god I tho-… Could you stop already?!"

Riddle had instead drawn his sword and pointed it directly under Snape's chin. His eyes, however, were fixed on Harry. He had also regained his dangerous calmness.

"Prove to me that you're not just saying that to save him."

"P-Prove it? Err…"

After all these times when Riddle had tried to convince him to join, Harry had not expected that he would suddenly be in the position where he needed to explain his wish to join him.

"Well it's…It's a bit complicated, I mean, I can't just…materialise my will, you know?"

"Try."

_Oh great, you just bought yourself a second more time, well done._

"Okay fine…Since I've met you I've been abducted more times, feared for my life more often and had more bruises than ever before. You also piss me off more than any other person I've met."

"Is that supposed to make sense to me?"

"No, it doesn't make any sense to me either. You were right okay? I think that's what pisses me off most. Boring days don't suit me, I need this…whatever this madness is. And I need him too," he pointed at Snape, "you heard Dumbledore. My father gave me something that somehow messed up my brain even though it should have killed me. And Snape is about the only person who might find out what's wrong with me."

"So you're saying your reason to join is because you _like_ getting in trouble?"

"Um…I wouldn't exactly say like-…"

"There is indeed something wrong with you," deadpanned Riddle.

Harry threw up his hands in exasperation. "Can I join you now or not?"

Riddle assessed him for half an eternity, before he sheathed his sword.

He walked up to Harry, who once again had to suppress the instinct to run away, and grabbed his chin.

"I'll expect you at the inn tonight. I do not want to hear or see anything of this traitor until we reach our headquarters in the country. Do you understand? Get him out of my sight."

"I understand."

Riddle's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I understand, _my lord_."

Harry gaped at him. "You're joking?!"

He hissed when Riddle clenched his hand painfully around his chin.

"Do I look like I am Harry?"

"You don't…my lord," he gritted out.

Riddle let go of his chin, gracefully whirled around and disappeared back down the dark corridor.

Harry stared after him warily and let out a long sigh. What had he gotten himself into?

He turned to the still unmoving Snape. "I'm sorry."

"You saved my life and threw away your independency, why would you possibly feel the need to apologize to me?"

"Because you wanted to die," answered Harry quietly.

Something flashed in Snape's eyes, but it was too fast gone for Harry to see it clearly. Snape's breath still sounded painful from Riddle's rough treatment and he leaned limply against the wall. Harry just hoped he had not broken completely.

Suddenly Snape pushed himself off the wall, straightened his spine and patted some dust from his cloak.

"I'm afraid my services are needed a little longer."

Harry smiled warmly. "They are."

Snape's expression was soft when he turned to Harry. "You have your mother's eyes, did you know that?"

"I think you mentioned it."

"They say the eyes are the windows to the soul…If there is even a chance that you have half of her spirit, you can count yourself a very lucky man Mr Potter."

"Thank you sir," replied Harry softly.

Snape straightened himself further and his expression became hard.

"If you repeat any of the words I just said to anyone, I'll murder you boy.,"

"Err…sure."

With that, Harry was left alone with lord Dumbledore's body.

Lovely.

.

* * *

.

The sun was settling when Harry finally got out of phoenix's headquarters.

He had not met any of the group's members in the building and Harry guessed Remus and Sirius had assembled them for an emergency meeting. As much as he wanted to go and convince himself that they were alright, he guessed his presence would not help their plans.

Instead, he had pulled Dumbledore's body to the room where Harry had been tied down. He knew his friends would come back as soon as possible and find him there.

He then had returned home and grabbed a few necessities, since he had no idea how long he would have to stay at the inn. He hoped Riddle would allow him to go and pack some more stuff before they left London, but Harry couldn't be sure.

He would certainly not cover in front of his new lord, but he knew that right now was a bad time to fight with Riddle. He was like a wounded animal and more dangerous and unpredictable than ever. It also didn't help that he wasn't pleased with Harry right now, since he knew that Harry had somehow found out about the past behind his back.

This would be one hell of a long day. Harry had had many of those since he had met Voldemort.

If he liked getting into trouble? No, he did not enjoy those moments of dread when he feared for his life or the life of those dear to him. But in a way, it had always been like that for him. It made him feel alive and kept him on his toes. It was his life - and he enjoyed living it.

He grabbed his small bag and made his way to the inn.

In front of the inn's door stood a grinning Sirius.

"Harry! Everything alright I see? Listen, I don't have much time, but you should know that most in group phoenix believed our story. They decided to name Remus our lord, can you believe that? Lord Lupin!"

"You'll drive him mad with that title won't you?" grinned Harry back.

"Of course I will, I'm his right hand now, that's my new job! Look, I gotta run now Harry, can't leave him in this mess alone. You watch out for that lord Voldemort fellow 'kay?"

Harry sobered a bit and shifted uneasy. "Um, Sirius? I err…decided to join his group."

Sirius didn't waste a second before Harry was in his hug. "Remus was right then…He always is. Just…promise me you'll take care of yourself. No one knows where lord Scrimgeour is and I have a very bad feeling about this whole mess."

Harry patted Sirius' back awkwardly. He didn't remember being hugged before and it was a strange feeling.

"I don't know Sirius, Scrimgeour seemed genuinely confused at Dumbledore's actions."

"He wants you dead Harry, I heard it with my own ears. Don't forget that."

"I won't."

Sirius let go of Harry. "Well…At least one of us will come by tomorrow to talk things over with lord Voldemort. He owes us the last part of the story, so do you."

"See you tomorrow then," smiled Harry.

Sirius waved at him and ran back in the direction of phoenix' headquarters.

Harry stood outside alone for a moment, before he took a deep breath and entered the inn.

"There he is! Still not dead, brat?" screeched Bellatrix before he even closed the door.

"Now now Bella," interrupted Riddle while approaching Harry, "be a little considerate with our newest member."

There was nothing that indicated his outburst from earlier that day. Lord Voldemort had regained his full composure and Harry did not like the evil glint he saw in his red eyes.

"Harry will now come upstairs with me and tell me all about what he remembers from when he was a tiny little baby."

Snape's story of Riddle being his babysitter popped up in Harry's mind and he blushed ferociously.

"You're going to torture me with it, won't you?"

Riddle grinned wickedly. "All night long, _Harry_."

.


	14. Chapter 14

Midnight found them in the usual room at the inn, both breathing heavily from yet another round of relentless chase.

It had gone well enough at first. The day had been bad for both of them, thus Harry had told himself to behave. He had told Riddle about his own memory of the fire and how Snape had recognised him and met him at his shop. He had confessed that Snape had told him about the past and that Harry had not said anything to Riddle. He had recounted Snape's story, except the bit where Snape had gone to Dumbledore.

It wasn't purely because he wanted to protect Snape. He was pretty sure that now that Snape had killed Dumbledore, he had made it clear he had never intended to help him.

The problem was Snape's reason for losing it like that in front of Dumbledore. It was obvious how much his mother meant to the otherwise stoic lord Voldemort. Telling him about what Harry's father had done with her was just... suicidal. Although she had most likely consented to it, talking about her as some desperate women who sleeps with married men would remove Harry's head faster than he could blink.

So he had just…not mentioned that part, but otherwise told him everything truthfully.

Voldemort had listened intently, only interrupting to ask for more clarification. He had been furious when Harry told him that Snape had known it was Dumbledore all along, but had never told his lord about it.

Apart from that short outburst of Riddle's temper, the conversation had been surprisingly civilised.

Until Riddle had converted back to the smug bastard he was. It was as if every time Harry was stuck in the same room as him, there was only a limited amount of time they could spent peacefully. Then tension would build up more and more until one of them cracked and said something that would trigger a temperamental explosion from the other.

After Harry lost his temper, he would sink back in his chair with a scowl, both men quietly sulking until they would pick up the conversation again.

Whenever Riddle lost his temper though… Harry's only option was to run in circles around the two chairs until the lord gave up on his goal to strangle him.

Unfortunately, Voldemort lost his temper sooner than Harry. That meant less sulking, more running.

Currently, they were once again seated in their chairs, ready to have a few minutes of civilised conversation.

"Snape told me all of you searched for me after the fire," began Harry.

"We did. Although if I look back now, only one of us tried to save you."

Meaning both Dumbledore and Riddle only searched for him to finish him off for good. What a lucky baby.

"At least we know Dumbledore had nothing to do with my survival. There must have been someone else who didn't want him to succeed."

Riddle emptied his drink in one go. The time for sipping was long gone.

"We might never know how you survived. In the end, I don't think it matters that much. Whoever helped you in your first few years obviously abandoned you before you could remember him."

"Maybe he or she died in the first few years of chaos?" wondered Harry.

Riddle chuckled maliciously.

"What?" frowned Harry.

"It was most likely done intentionally. You probably annoyed the hell out of them."

_Aaand, here we go again._

"Snape told me I was an exceptionally quiet baby," protested Harry.

"He never saw you when you were bored," explained Riddle amused, "gods, how you cried. I swear you had two sets of lungs."

Harry blushed mortified. "You should have entertained me better then," he mumbled.

Red eyes glistened with dark mirth. "Oh I apologize for not being entertaining enough _Harry_."

Harry immediately felt the change in the atmosphere.

"Err…no, I didn't-…"

Riddle stood up in a fluid motion. The sudden movement startled Harry and caused him to jump backwards, which sent him tumbling awkwardly over his chair. The chair was too heavy to fall over, causing Harry to land flat on his back, head spinning from the fall and the extra rush of adrenaline.

Riddle's head popped up from the other side of the chair and sneered down at Harry.

"Ah yes, you always preferred to lie on your back."

"Excuse me?!" Harry quickly sat up and rubbed his aching back, while scowling up at Riddle.

"You crawled strange. You preferred to simply sit and use your legs to glide around on your bum. I remember a time where you didn't actually move forwards but spun in circles, thinking that you moved because the scenery around you changed. I tried to teach you, but you downright refused to get on your knees," Riddle paused, then grinned amused, "How very…telling."

Gosh, this was worse than being strangled. Hearing Riddle talk about how he behaved as a baby, analysing his actions from a time Harry himself couldn't even remember, was pure torture. It left him craving for more information, yet at the same time he felt as if his very soul was exposed to the man.

"So what? That doesn't sound too annoying," grumbled Harry.

Riddle's eyebrows shot up sceptically. "Don't even get me started on your eating habits."

Frustrated Harry hid his face in his hands. He rubbed his eyes furiously to drive away his sleepiness. He was so tired he would have fallen asleep while standing if it weren't for the presence of lord Voldemort.

"Just stop it already! You had to look after me, I get it. What do you want Riddle? A tearful thank you?"

Riddle huffed annoyed and sat back down in his chair. "I preferred you when you couldn't talk."

Harry stood up enraged. _Temper Harry, temper._

"Oh so you want me to play mute? Or did you let me join so I can move around on my arse?"

Riddle threw him a _very_ odd look. One that told Harry instantly that he had said something he shouldn't have. Riddle didn't look like he was about to lose it though. More like he was mildly shocked, but at the same time had to retain himself from laughing.

"Hmm…who knows? Although the floor isn't quite good enough for you anymore…"

"Wha- oh forget it." Harry let himself drop back in his chair and started to massage his temples. The lord was either insane or Harry was missing a crucial part of his sentences. Probably both.

Once again they sat opposite each other, waiting for the other to restart their conversation.

"So…" Riddle started after several minutes of silence. Harry shot him a warning look. If he continued talking about his childhood, Harry decided to storm out right then and there before he attacked the bastard that was now his lord. How did that happen anyway?

"You said you needed Snape," prompted Riddle after a while.

Harry allowed himself to relax a bit.

"Yes he said he still had a sample of the pills Dumble-…or well, my father fed me. Apparently, Snape was quite a famous pharmacist before the chaos. If anyone can help me find out what exactly meddled with my brain, it's him."

Riddle folded his hands under his chin and looked at Harry contemplating.

"And then what?"

"Huh?"

"What do you intend to do once you know the exact ingredients of the mix?"

"I-…" Harry started but stopped himself. Now that he thought about it, he wasn't even sure if the knowledge would help him in any ways.

"Well I…I might be able to create something that would stop my blackouts. I wouldn't suddenly pass out for several days just because I got swept up in a problem."

"What about your exceptional intelligence?"

Harry snorted. Trust Riddle to only be worried about what he might lose if Harry could 'cure' his little problem.

His thoughts must have shown clearly on his face. Either that, or Riddle could read his mind.

"I'm not just thinking about the consequences it would have on my group. Believe it or not, I'm concerned about your well-being."

"How very…flattering. And exactly what a good lord is expected to say," taunted Harry.

Riddle frowned. "You depended on your intelligence for all your life, you can't tell me a sudden loss wouldn't affect your way of living considerably."

"I highly doubt I can switch it on and off like that. Whatever was in those pills, it altered my brain permanently. I don't take the pills anymore, haven't taken them since I was one year old. If the substances in the pills were needed to make me smarter, I would be required to take them every day. Since I'm not, it can only mean that they induced some kind of permanent effect."

Suddenly Riddle started to laugh. It wasn't his usual chuckle or his smug grin, it was an actual honest laugh. It shocked Harry more than anything.

"What is it now?" he asked warily.

"Nothing. I just thought about my followers. I searched the country for the best in their respective domain, but for one reason or the other, they are all more than a bit cracked. A lost-generation with an altered brain? You'll fit in perfectly."

"Oh great, I was worried I wouldn't be welcomed in your family of misfits," replied Harry drily. To be honest, he was a bit surprised Riddle called his members 'followers' and not 'subjects' or the like.

Riddle shrugged, completely ignoring Harry's sarcasm. "Normally, we would head back to our headquarters so you could get…settled in so to speak. But I'm afraid Scrimgeour's ball makes that impossible."

"Um, you think it's wise for me to pop up there? Last time I checked the host himself wanted me dead…"

"We can't ignore an invitation like that. It's not just Scrimgeour, a lot of powerful lords will be there. The experience you had with lords was limited to London. Dumbledore was the only lord here who deserved to be called powerful. It will do you good to meet the important lords of Britain."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Whatever for? I mean, it's you who'll have to deal with them right?"

"We'll see..."

The man really needed to stop hinting at things and just _say_ them. Harry wondered if there even existed a person who could have a normal, fluent conversation with Riddle.

"So we'll head directly to the ball and only afterwards return to your headquarters?"

" _Our_ headquarters child," chided Riddle.

"Right," replied Harry curtly. It hasn't even been a day, Riddle really needed to give him more time than that to adjust.

"Yes we'll have to go directly, otherwise we would never make it there in time. If we would go at the end of this week we could still make it but we would have had to travel with little sleep. Now that everything is already settled, we can depart in one or two days and take the trip at a more comfortable pace."

"How do we get there anyways? I somehow doubt you travel by foot. Do you have horses?"

Riddle grinned ominously. "Much better. I'm sure you'll be excited once you see it."

Harry only raised an eyebrow at that but said nothing. If Riddle didn't want to tell him, he wouldn't. It was as simple as that.

Harry yawned shamelessly and was rewarded with an indignant look from Riddle.

"I'm assuming my company is still not entertaining enough?"

Harry laughed softly at his offended tone. "That really didn't sit well eh? I'm tired that's all. It has something to do with overthrowing one lord after the other I guess."

Riddle stood up. "Fine, sleep. We'll continue tomorrow."

Harry couldn't suppress a groan at the prospect.

Riddle smirked wickedly. "I haven't even told you about how you refused to wear any clothes when you were-…"

"Fuck you!" cried Harry and stood up as well. He grabbed his bag and literally fled from the room.

"I wish you a good night _Harry,_ " called a darkly amused voice after him.

That night, Harry slept in the room farthest away from Voldemort's.

.

* * *

.

He woke up when the sun was already well past its zenith.

It was strange waking up somewhere else than in his shop. There had been a time where he would sleep every night in a different spot, mostly in the open. But since he had arrived in London, he had always awoken at home. He hadn't expected to feel so sentimental about it. The front side of the shop was destroyed anyway, he would have been forced to move out even if he hadn't joined Voldemort.

Harry got up and dressed himself. He wore his old clothes again, they were more comfortable and might even piss off Riddle.

Now what? He had 'quit' his job so to speak and was now a bit at a loss what to do with his day. It didn't help that he wasn't exactly keen on meeting Riddle again. Now that they actually lived under the same roof – and would continue to do so in the future – Harry couldn't avoid him as easily.

His stomach growled and Harry sighed. He dreaded who he might run into outside his room. Nevertheless, he walked out and bravely made his way downstairs.

He had hoped to meet Snape there, someone he knew and could greet without feeling awkward. But Snape was a clever man, and clever men did not show their face after infuriating lord Voldemort.

"Stop thief!" screeched Bellatrix and Harry had to suppress the impulse to facepalm himself. Gods, did he have to deal with her every day now?

"Me?" he asked instead, trying to keep out the irritation and sounding innocently. Not that he had any clue what she was talking about.

"Yes you, brat!"

She came closer and poked her finger at Harry's chest accusingly. Her words lacked spite though. Harry realised that her demeanour was different from the first time he had seen her. Still aggressive, but much more playful as well.

"I didn't steal anything," protested Harry half-heartedly.

"He stole my chocolate father!"

Harry turned to his right at the high-pitched voice and saw not one, but three blond heads sitting at a table.

"I did not. They merely blew up my home before I could give you any. Besides, I wouldn't have had chocolate anyways."

"See? He doesn't even deny it!" continued Draco.

Harry calmed himself by deciding Draco was using children's logic. If they even had any logic in their thoughts that is. Concerning Bellatrix…well, that was another matter.

"I see what you are doing you slimy rat! You are stealing away our lord! Keeping him to yourself for whole nights now, eh?"

"I did n-…most certainly not!" spluttered Harry.

Bellatrix cackled wildly. She crouched down to the little Draco.

"You see Draco, if two people spent the night together behind closed doors they-…"

"Bella please!" interrupted Lucius fiercely and pulled Draco onto the chair next to him.

"He'll have to learn it someday dear Lucius," jeered Bellatrix.

Harry had used the opportunity to get away from her and sat down at the bar.

"Help me," he moaned desperately to old Tom.

The barkeeper grinned toothless. "You'll need a lot of energy to keep up with this pack Harry."

Harry let his head fall down at the counter with a bang.

"I have some soup and a slice of old bread for you, if that would help?"

"You're a true lifesaver," smiled Harry, his stomach growling right on cue.

"Don't run away thief!"

Bellatrix tackled him from behind, causing Harry to reflexively jab his elbow into the body behind him.

She made a wheezing sound and let him go instantly.

"Err…Sorry I didn't mea-…"

He never got to finish his sentence as a very unladylike kick swept him off his chair.

"The brat can fight I see. Very nice reflexes dearie, but you're wide open."

Bellatrix grinned and hoped excited from one leg to the other.

"Well come on then little Harry, afraid you'll get hurt?"

Harry grumbled something unintelligent and rubbed his elbow.

"In fact, I am afraid to get hurt. Close combat isn't exactly my forte."

"Oh don't worry, it's mine! I can teach you!"

As if to prove her words she slammed her fist into the counter right where Harry's head had been a second ago. Harry had thankfully seen her attack coming and had crouched down to avoid it.

"I see you made some friends," came a gentle voice from the inn's front door.

"Remus!" exclaimed Harry relieved. He quickly hurried away from Bellatrix and beamed at his friend.

"Oh I mean, lord Lupin," he mocked and bowed ludicrously low.

His friend groaned. "Please no more! Sirius alone is enough to drive me mad."

"Haven't seen you pay _our_ lord any respect," accused Bellatrix while eying the new lord up and down.

"Even though he's stolen him you see," she whispered to Remus conspiratorially.

"Oh?" made Remus, both confused and slightly amused.

"Yes, locked him up the whole night."

"I see," grinned Remus.

"Remus! Don't you dare listen to that witch!" cried Harry indignantly.

"Aww itsy-bitsy Harry doesn't like auntie Bella."

Remus laughed. "Before I'll leave you two to it, would one of you be so kind and point me in the direction of our esteemed lord Voldemort?"

"Esteemed indeed," snorted Harry.

"Come here and I'll teach you some manners brat!" warned Bellatrix and clenched her hands into fists again.

Harry quickly took a large sidestep and covered behind Remus, who held up his hands soothingly.

Before Bellatrix could launch her attack, they were interrupted by the silky voice of lord Voldemort.

"Bella, stop pestering him. Lord Lupin! This way please. _Harry_ …go eat something, I heard your stomach all the way up to the second floor."

Bellatrix bowed and stepped back immediately, while Harry rolled his eyes at Remus and gave him a look that said 'see what I have to put up with?'

His friend only smiled at him and headed to the stairs.

Harry began to suspect Riddle only gave him orders that he would have done anyway, just to make it seem as if he did it because he had been commanded to do so. Sneaky bastard.

.

* * *

.

The next few days, Harry was busy doing nothing. Both Remus and Sirius often dropped by to discuss more boring issues with Voldemort. Fudge also showed himself several times, and Harry was glad to note that none of his friends adopted the same weak expression Fudge had when being around lord Voldemort.

The three kept Riddle quite busy, enabling Harry to avoid him most of the times. Until one morning, when Harry slowly opened his eyes and found himself staring directly into red orbs.

"Eek!" he screamed shocked and his head promptly collided with Riddle's head. Both of them hissed at the throbbing pain that followed.

"Oh my god, are you serious?!" gritted Harry through clenched teeth.

"You may call me 'my lord'," replied Riddle drily, while rubbing his forehead.

"Very funny Riddle. What the hell are you doing here?"

"Waking you up. Time to rise and shine _Harry_."

Harry sobered instantly. "We're leaving?"

"Get dressed and pack up. You have an hour to go and fetch everything you need from your shop."

Harry hastily scrambled out of bed. A weird mixture of sorrow and excitement cursing through his veins.

Seeing his home again was less emotional than he had expected. Apparently, his short sentimental phase had already passed. It was not too surprising. In this world, you lived longer the faster you could adapt.

The only true regret he had was leaving his friends behind. He would miss them dearly and he doubted he would ever find someone he could trust as much as them.

They had promised him to come and see him off, but Harry was worried they might not even know they were leaving today. His worry must have still clearly shown on his face an hour later, because Riddle immediately caught on to it.

"Stop worrying, they are informed."

"Where is everyone?" asked Harry evasive, not wanting Riddle to see how much leaving his friends affected him.

"They went ahead. Now, shall we?"

Riddle didn't wait for an answer and marched off without checking if Harry followed him. Harry hesitantly walked after him.

"Where are we going?" he asked mildly astonished as they continued to walk even after they reached the edge of the city.

"Not so impatient child," answered Riddle. Harry glanced at him suspiciously. The man's mood was entirely too good.

Riddle abruptly stopped and Harry almost walked right into him. "Wha-…"

"Close your eyes," ordered Riddle sharply.

"Huh? Why?"

"Because I say so."

Harry snorted but chose to amuse the lord and closed his eyes lightly.

He felt Riddle's hand nudging him from behind and let himself be directed to the end of the street. He thought Riddle's antics were pretty ridiculous.

"What are you, a little chil-…"

"Open."

Harry sighed and opened his eyes. He froze. For several seconds he just stared blankly ahead of him. He was dimly aware that Riddle watched him closely.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said finally, trying to gape at both Riddle and what stood several meters away from him.

It was a train. A _train_! Not horses or wagons, no, a freaking train. Looking every bit as outdated as it was, yet it wasn't covered in mud and rust like the other single coaches Harry had seen lying forgotten between bushes and trees. No, this one had three coaches and its engine was steaming. Harry felt as if he was looking through a window that showed long forgotten times.

"But…How…Why on earth would you…?" Harry was genuinely speechless.

"Why? It's by far the most comfortable way to travel. It is far more robust than those scanty horse wagons and protects us efficiently from the weather. You can even heat up the interior in cold days. Besides, all we had to do was clean up the coaches. All the railway tracks that cover the country are mostly still intact. We had to cut down one or two trees but otherwise travelled much faster than by horse."

Riddle glanced at him. "I thought you might like it." He sounded pleased.

Like it? Harry _loved_ it! Machines, steel and steam were his world. Plus, he had read how fast a train could go. To simply sit in it and watch the landscape pass them by sounded like something out of a dream.

Without even realising it, Harry had slowly approached the train. He touched it gingerly, as if afraid it might vanish before his very eyes.

"I told you Sirius, he made the right choice after all. Have you seen his face?"

Harry snapped out of his reverie and turned around. Behind him stood Remus and Sirius, both grinning broadly, but with a touch of sadness in their eyes.

He opened his mouth to speak, to call their names, but nothing came out. Instead his body moved on its own in a way that was definitely out of character. He hugged them both at the same time and refused to let go.

"Ouff, kiddo you're killing us! When did you get that strong eh?" mocked Sirius light-heartedly.

Harry awkwardly stepped back and scratched his nose to hide his embarrassment.

"I hate to interrupt your tearful farewell, but if you don't get on I'll let you run the first few kilometres," called Riddle from inside the train.

"Uhm, right… I guess I'm off to new adventures and all that shit," joked Harry nervously.

"Visit us as soon as possible Harry, you'll always be welcomed here," smiled Remus warmly.

"Show those lords what you're made off!" added Sirius.

"I'll miss you," confessed Harry.

"Aww, look Remus, we taught him emotions after all!" Sirius wiped an imaginary tear from his eyes. "They grow up so quickly."

"Harry Potter!" called Riddle warningly.

"Go on then," encouraged him Remus. When he saw that Harry still wasn't moving he made a dismissive gesture. "Shoo, begone you!"

Harry slowly turned away from them and made his way to the door where Riddle waited. He glanced back. His friends were stepping away from the small train but seemed determined to wait until the group departed for good.

"Finished yet?" mocked Riddle, though there was no true malice in his words.

Harry ignored him. "Where should I…?" he trailed off, uncertain how to phrase his question.

Riddle pointed ahead of him. "Two men will always have to tend to the engine, the foremost coach is where the rest sleeps and eats. The middle coach is used as a storage and the last one…" he paused, "…is ours."

"I'm sorry _what_?!" snapped Harry shocked.

Riddle only smirked and disappeared inside.

The excitement Harry had felt when seeing the train was instantly replaced by a cold, dreadful terror.

.


	15. Chapter 15

Due to the condition the railway was in, they weren't able to travel as fast as the train itself could have. Still, it proved to be everything and more Harry had imagined it to be.

The only downside was the limited space. Since Riddle claimed the last coach as his own and the front only consisted out of a small engine room, everyone was forced to travel in the same 'room' so to speak.

Harry had spent the first few hours immobile in front of a window, staring at the unfamiliar landscape passing him by. The land became wilder the farther away they got from London. Although time and nature had reclaimed a good part of the city as well, the vegetation was still hindered by the existing solid buildings. The smaller towns however had not stood a chance against nature. The land was covered in a thick forest, only interrupted by rocky grounds or fields of long, sturdy grass.

The rails were covered in smaller vegetation as well, but as long as they travelled carefully, the massive weight of the train was enough to keep them safely on track. Only sometimes did they have to stop the train and remove a fallen tree or cut down thick roots that hindered their route.

Although Harry enjoyed the train ride, he was glad for these little stops as well. It allowed everyone to get away from each other for a bit.

During the last few days at the inn and now on their journey, Harry was slowly getting to know the other members of his new group - at least the handful that were privileged enough to travel with the small scouting party.

Riddle had phrased it quite well, they were all a bit cracked. Harry was surprised to find out that he liked it. While he didn't necessarily like a single member's personality, he felt comfortable with the mentality they gave off as a whole.

Contrary to his beliefs, Riddle gave them quite a lot of leeway. There was no obvious order or planned out routines. No defined chores and no daily plans. They fought and laughed with each other, everyone living in the moment, taking the day how it came.

Harry had meant the expression 'family of misfits' as a joke, now he began to see that he had been closer to the truth than he had thought. They were a large, dysfunctional family. But as soon as lord Voldemort stepped into the picture, they were the most synchronised and dedicated bunch of people Harry had ever seen.

Harry began to understand why people were so smitten with lord Voldemort. He wasn't just charismatic as hell, he thought, planned and schemed enough for all of them. His followers trusted him blindly, knowing that whatever crazy action he might demand of them was part of a well sought-out scheme. People were drawn to him, because after enduring two decades of chaos, where they had to take care of their own, they gladly handed him their responsibilities.

If only he hadn't had that sadistic streak. Harry had yet to experience one of his truly cruel punishments, but the underlying _fear_ in every adoring and respecting glance towards their lord spoke volumes.

The one thing that Harry could not figure out and bewildered him most was Riddle's demeanour when he was around Harry. Compared to his cold, demanding tone he used on his other members, he seemed downright playful with Harry. Still dangerous, still sadistic and still controlled, yes, but constantly _teasing_ nonetheless.

Harry might not have grasped the full meaning of some of Riddle's jokes, but he understood enough to know that they were…inappropriate.

His best guess was that Riddle found his rebellious attitude somewhat enjoyable compared to the absolute reverence he got from his other followers. Harry knew the lord would tolerate his insolence up to a certain point because he enjoyed their little banters, which usually ended with Harry in discomfort. In the very least, he seemed to serve as an easy way to pass some time for Riddle.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Riddle's cold hand seized his shoulder from behind, just when Harry was about to board the train.

They had once again been forced to stop and cut down a series of particularly awry trees, a process that had cost them several hours.

"Um, I was just-…"

"…taking the wrong door again?" finished Riddle dangerously casual.

Harry was already standing with one foot on the first step of the door that led to the second coach. He glanced longingly inside. While he might not like the close proximity of the other group members, he certainly preferred them over his second option.

Until now, Harry had successfully avoided Voldemort under the pretence to explore every bit of the train. But the sun was going down now, and Riddle's patience ran thin.

"In _there,_ " hissed Riddle and pointed to the last coach.

Harry sighed miserably and cursed under his breath while he reluctantly made his way to the smallest coach of the train.

It was furnished like a small office, complete with table, bookshelf, couch and large armchairs. Harry began to suspect Riddle had a soft spot for them. In one corner stood a small bed. While it wasn't nearly as luxurious as Harry had thought Riddle's bed to be, it was certainly better than the thin mattresses his members had to content themselves with.

Not knowing what Riddle expected him to do here anyway, Harry sat down on one side of the large couch.

They weren't moving yet, the engine first had to be started again and they would have to wait for several minutes until it was heated up properly.

"So tell me _Harry_ , what is in the other coaches that can hold your attention for several hours and somehow doesn't exist in this one?" inquired Riddle as he walked in behind Harry.

"Better company," answered Harry drily.

He saw the corners of Riddle's mouth twitch, even though the lord obviously tried to remain impassive.

Harry waited for him to start talking about whatever it was he wanted to discuss, but Riddle kept silent.

"Can I go now?" whined Harry, knowing full well that he sounded like a spoiled brat, but he couldn't bring himself to care much.

"To do what?"

"Look out a window..?" shrugged Harry sheepishly.

"There are windows here too."

Harry sighed again. "Fine."

He demonstratively turned away from the still standing Riddle and fixed his eyes on the nearest window. Since they were still not moving, the only thing he could see were some trees, but Harry kept his eyes firmly on the window.

He was forced to turn back when he felt the couch dip slightly to his left.

Riddle had sat down on the other side of it, looking way too casual for Harry's liking.

"What are you doing?" he asked cautiously.

"Sitting," deadpanned Riddle.

"Really now?" said Harry slowly and consciously edged more to his side of the couch.

Riddle shot him a disapproving look. "It seems to me you have some kind of trust issue."

"Really now?" repeated Harry.

Riddle's eyes seemed to measure every small change in Harry's expression and body language until he narrowed his eyes determined.

Harry's muscles tensed in anticipation of a sudden movement from his part. The fact that Riddle sat so close to him did nothing to reassure him.

But Riddle only intended to speak. "For all it's worth, I apologize fo-…"

There was a knock on the door that connected their coach to the previous one.

Harry sat stunned and stared stupidly at Riddle. He certainly had not expected…whatever it was that Riddle had begun.

"Come in," called Voldemort annoyed.

Bellatrix' swiftly entered, bowed to Voldemort and scowled at the still stunned, but very close sitting, Harry.

"My lord we are ready to depart again," she beamed at Voldemort.

Riddle began to stand up but Harry quickly grabbed his arm and held him down. He would not permit such a rare opportunity to go by uselessly.

"No no, wait, what are you sorry for?"

Riddle glowered at him. "Later."

Harry threw his hands up exasperated and jumped up. "Okay good, I'll just go then and-…"

Riddle's hand seized his shoulder again and yanked him back on the couch.

"You. _Stay,_ " hissed Voldemort.

"Woof," barked Harry sarcastically. "Should I wag my tail too? Or pant?"

There was a tense silence as Riddle sized him up.

"How dare you-…" exclaimed Bellatrix furiously but Voldemort raised his hand and she broke off, however, she couldn't bear it and began again. "My lord, let me handle him for a day or two, I'll teach him how to properly respect-…"

"Go start the train Bella," interrupted Voldemort almost lazily.

"But my lord! That cheeky brat needs to-…"

"Out," whispered Voldemort. He didn't yell like one might expect an angry person to, but his low, menacing voice was worse. The sharp, cold sound of it made Harry's insides churn.

Bellatrix blanched visibly and bowed deeply before hurrying out.

Riddle's attention zeroed in on Harry, who was suddenly painfully aware of the hand that still rested on his shoulder. The lord did _not_ look happy.

"I'm really not in the mood for your impertinence, child," he warned, his voice still not much more than a whisper. "I'm a bit…irritated today."

Harry was left to wonder if Riddle was ever _not_ irritated. Although he _was_ curious to know why Riddle would admit it.

"Uh-huh," he made, uncertain whether agreeing with Riddle on his mood would appease the man or not.

Riddle slowly let go of his shoulder, his eyes never leaving him. Harry started to fidget under the intense gaze.

"If it helped with your trust issue…I would apologize for strangling you even though you did not know my reasons, nor were you truly guilty."

Harry stared back into his disconcerting red eyes.

" _Would_ you now…" he echoed.

"I said I'm not in the mood for your cheek. I should inform you that I feel a very strong need to strangle you right now."

"Uh-huh," repeated Harry haltingly.

Red eyes narrowed dangerously. "Careful now, or I'll start to think you aren't capable of articulating properly."

Harry sighed exasperated and buried his head in his hands. "That's not the problem."

When he only got a quizzical look from Riddle, he continued. "You attacking me I mean. Well, it was unexpected that you wanted to kill me, since I had absolutely no idea who you were. But I get it now so…" he shrugged.

Riddle didn't look convinced but stayed silent.

He realised that Riddle thought the horrifying first impression Harry had of him was enough to scare Harry permanently. The thought was strangely repulsive to Harry. He didn't particularly care whether Riddle had a high opinion of him, but to think him _scared_ …

"I'm not sc-…" Harry considered what he was about to say and conceded. "Okay, so maybe I am… In a way. It's still not the issue though."

He took a deep breath and forced himself to glare directly at Riddle.

"You sent me to Dumbledore without warning, even though you clearly knew what would happen. You even made me wash myself and dress in clean clothes. And now you are sitting here, apologizing for your outburst of fury?!"

Harry observed him closely, but Riddle didn't even bat an eyelash.

"You have no idea why I'm mad about that do you?" he realised stunned. "You really think attacking me, the one you thought solely responsible for your parent's death, is the problem here."

A shadow passed over Riddle's face as his features grew hard. "I should not have lost my contr-…"

"I don't care about your precious control and I know you're just using me, but I _hate_ being played like one of your chess pieces."

Riddle frowned. "That's the same thing."

"No it most certainly is not. You could have told me Dumbledore was waiting outside, you could have told me you would follow us, you could have _told me what your plan was_. And guess what? I would have gone anyway."

Harry almost had to laugh at Riddle's concentrated expression. As if he was trying hard to understand something truly outrageous.

"And you would not have minded that? I don't see the difference, you still would have been just bait. Your actions would have remained the same anyways."

"But I would have _known_. You didn't have to send me off like some puppet."

Riddle crossed his arms annoyed. "There was no need for you to know."

"But I wanted to," insisted Harry.

They were silent for a long time after that.

The train slowly began moving again and Harry could see the last light fade away through the window. A big advantage of the train was that they could travel through the night without any difficulty. As long as two people looked after the engine, everyone else could sleep soundly and the train never grew tired.

With a faint startle, Harry realised he had managed to get his point across in a civil conversation with Riddle, that did not end with him fleeing the room.

Even more startling was the fact that he was in the same room as lord Voldemort without being suffocated by a tense silence. This silence was strangely…relaxing.

Still, Harry was not the type to just idly sit around. There was only so much time he could spent doing nothing.

He stood up, and Riddle immediately snapped out of his own thoughts. His look seemed to glue Harry to the ground.

"Relax, I'll just go and help with the mattresses."

During the day, the second coach had been furnished like a living room. With the dark night around them, they would put all the unnecessary furniture in the third coach and lay out a mattress for each person.

"You won't be needed."

"I'd rather not sleep next to Bellatrix. I'm pretty sure that I wouldn't wake up again."

"You'll sleep here," ordered Riddle in a tone that did not leave any room for negotiations.

Harry rolled his eyes. "And where exactly would that be?"

Instead of answering, Riddle demonstratively looked down at the couch.

Harry gaped at him. "You're joking!"

Riddle tilted his head questioningly. "I really wonder why you always assume that."

The group had packed so that there were exactly as many mattresses as people. It meant that now with Harry, they would have been short one mattress. However, since they had lost one member in Harry's workshop, one mattress was free. Still Voldemort insisted that Harry slept in the last coach.

While the ridiculously luxurious sofa was probably more comfortable than the thin mattresses, Harry would have rather slept on the naked floor. There was something disturbing about the fact that the lord would be in the same room as him while he slept.

Harry needed his sleep, and he needed lots of it. He was one of those persons that got extremely grumpy and irritated without enough sleep. It bothered him greatly that Riddle was exactly on the other side of the spectrum. Harry wouldn't have been surprised if the lord didn't need sleep at all. It meant that Harry would sleep several hours while Riddle was _awake_.

"I could help with the engine tonight…" began Harry weakly, but Riddle's grim look was enough to shut him up and his protest turned into a long sigh.

"You're sitting on my bed then," he remarked drily and pointed accusingly at the still sitting Riddle.

Riddle smiled smugly. "Better get used to it."

"Huh?"

"Nothing," smirked Riddle and stood up gracefully. "All yours," he made an exaggerated gesture to the couch.

Harry rolled his eyes again in return.

.

* * *

.

As if sleeping in the same room with a megalomaniac lord wasn't bad enough, Harry woke up screaming.

Of all the nights, his brain had generously chosen this one to process everything he had learned recently. An unsettling combination of fire, screams, knives and pills left him covered in cold sweat and feeling nauseous.

And _of course_ , Riddle was awake and calmly drinking tea in one of the armchairs. His red eyes studied him intently.

Harry wanted to shrug it off and tell him he was perfectly fine, but when he opened his mouth to speak, a new wave of nausea hit him and he bolted out of the room instead.

With a hand pressed tightly on his mouth he stumbled to the next coach, which was used as a storeroom. Harry had hoped to calm himself there, in the absence of other people, especially Riddle. But the room was cramped with furniture, equipment and stored food, and Harry felt crushed instead.

He needed some air.

Without looking up, he darted through the second coach and ignored everyone who called out after him and opened the door to the engine.

He ignored the two men currently tending to it as well and climbed through a larger window on the side of the room. He had discovered the small platform on his prolonged discovery tour yesterday.

It was nothing more than a tiny balcony, which would allow a mechanic to fix or wash the outer parts of the engine.

To Harry, it represented some much needed personal space.

He bent over the handrail and vomited. Although he hated it, he knew he would feel better afterwards.

He slowly straightened up again and greedily breathed in the fresh morning air. The sun had only just begun to rise and the land was covered with a thick mist. The cold air that rustled through his hair and the sight of the silent, endless fields and forests did wonders to his stomach.

He took a final deep breath and let it out as a sigh.

"Normally, I would ask myself what went wrong in the upbringing of the person who displayed such reckless behaviour, but with you, I find myself strangely unsurprised."

Harry's head jerked to his right and saw a familiar black figure standing right next to him.

"Snape?!" he exclaimed, shocked that he had not seen the man when he climbed onto the platform.

"Potter," replied Snape curtly.

"I am…uhm…"

"Enjoying the morning in a truly unorthodox way I see…" Snape shot him a mildly appalled look. "…and ruining it for others."

Harry mumbled something under his breath that could have been interpreted as an apology.

"Did lord Voldemort finally decide to poison you, or is that your usual routine to start the day?"

Harry snorted. "Neither, actually. I just had a bad dream."

Snape quirked an eyebrow at that. " _Just_ a bad dream?"

"Yeah…It involved brain-altering substances and old men," answered Harry half joking, half serious.

Snape's expression darkened. "And that caused your nausea?"

"Not exactly…I think it was more the thought that my own thoughts and whole personality might very well be just a product of some pills," explained Harry bitterly.

Snape stayed silent at that and Harry was grateful for it. Most people might have tried to console him with meaningless sentiments, but Snape didn't try anything of the sort. It showed Harry that he understood his situation. No one knew the full effect of the pills, and Snape would not pretend otherwise.

"I also interrupted Riddle's peaceful morning tea session with my screams," grinned Harry in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Snape's mouth formed a tight-lipped smile. "For all we know, he might have found that even more relaxing."

Harry's grin widened at that. It was nice to know he had some sort of ally when joking about Riddle. Although Snape was a devoted follower, he saw things form a different perspective because of his shared past with Voldemort.

"Sooo… I'm guessing he's still furious at you?" began Harry tentatively.

"I don't intend to find out."

Meaning Snape wasn't stupid enough to show himself to Voldemort before the lord explicitly asked for him.

They both watched the passing landscape for a while. Their peaceful silence was interrupted by a small commotion in the engine room.

When Harry turned to the window to look inside, he saw Riddle's face instead. Behind him, the two men stayed in a deep bow.

"Good morning!" greeted Harry overly cheerful, as if there was nothing strange about having a conversation through a window of a moving train.

It wasn't possible for Riddle to climb onto the platform because the space was barely sufficient for two people.

"What are you doing out there?" Riddle did not sound pleased. On the other hand, he didn't seem surprised either, more resigned than anything.

"Playing hide and seek," replied Harry earnestly, "you are 'it'."

He could see Riddle's eyes darting briefly to Snape, who had somehow managed to bow down gracefully despite the limited space. To Harry's relief, Riddle completely ignored him.

"I'm not even going to ask you what earlier was about, but you are required in the second coach for Narcissa to take your measurements."

"Why?" Harry asked warily.

"You'll need proper clothes for the ball of course."

"I have clothes!" protested Harry.

Riddle took a moment to look him up and down, his lips pressing together in a displeased grimace.

"I meant the ones you gave me at the inn, remember?"

Riddle looked at him as if he couldn't decide whether he should laugh or hit him.

"Those were _approximately_ your size, you need something that fits."

He turned away from the window and made his way back to the door that connected them to the second coach.

"If you aren't there in two minutes I'll send Bella to fetch you," he called back before leaving.

Harry let out a pained growl.

"Frustrated much?" sneered Snape, sounding way too amused for Harry's liking.

"Is he _always_ like that?" groaned Harry.

"No."

Harry turned to him sullenly. "You were supposed to say 'yes'."

"He's only like that around you."

"Why?" Harry asked slightly alarmed at his statement.

"You tell me," shrugged Snape lightly.

"Are you going to stay here the whole day?"

"Probably."

Harry left him to his own devices and climbed back in through the window.

.

* * *

.

One endless hour later, Harry could finally escape a stern Narcissa, a whining Draco and a mob of jeering people, who had nothing better to do than to animatedly comment on Harry's physique throughout the whole thing.

He had wanted to return to Snape after that torture, but Bellatrix had engine duty and Harry was forced to retreat quickly.

He had passed a few hours in the storage room, rummaging through the different stuff out of boredom. Sadly, Riddle soon heard his actions from the adjacent coach and ordered Harry back to his coach.

Harry had been anxious what he wanted to discuss next, but Riddle had been content to simply ignore him. So Harry had picked up one of Riddle's books and began to immerse himself in it.

When the sun was already beginning to settle, the train suddenly stopped and Harry pulled himself out of his lecture.

"Do we need to cut down trees again?" he asked, eager to get out for a bit and do something else than sitting.

Riddle stood up from his position behind the desk and looked out of the window.

"No trees," he answered mysteriously, "we're here."

.


	16. Chapter 16

The clothes Narcissa had designed were gorgeous. She hadn't had the time to decorate the robes with the appropriate embroidery, but they were made out of the finest material and adapted snugly to Harry's every movement. They were clean and light as a feather, made out of such a dark shade of green that they almost appeared black.

In short, it was the most _ridiculous_ thing Harry had ever seen.

What a waste of precious cloth and effort! Bellatrix of all people had tried to explain the concept of a ball to him, but Harry thought the whole thing was a joke. As long as he didn't appear naked, nobody would care what he wore right? A lord might want to impress through his appearance, but what did that have to do with _him_?

The robes made him feel like an oversized puppet and he became extremely self-conscious.

And of course, Riddle managed to look bloody brilliant in his. The lord was so much at ease in his dark impressive robes, one would have thought he had slept in them. Except that there was not a single wrinkle to be found.

After successfully stuffing Harry in his new robes, Narcissa had tried to tame his hair at least a little bit. The usually very composed women had almost thrown an anger fit when she hadn't been able to achieve any kind of success. As her last resort, she had taken out her scissors, but Harry managed to flee outside and mingle with the crowd that gathered there.

They had arrived one day early and had used the extra day to set up their camp. The ball would last for several days and since they would not have to move the train anymore, they had unpacked their belongings at the edge of a small forest. From there they could already see the lights on top of the hill where the mansion stood.

The mansion where the ball was held looked huge even from the distance. Apparently it belonged to some powerful lord who controlled a good part of this region. Harry was relieved that it wasn't Scrimgeour. While Scrimgeour was important enough to send out invitation, he would not be the main host of the event.

If there was one person who dreaded the coming few nights more than Harry, it would have to be Severus Snape.

The snarky man almost had to be dragged away from his hiding spot by Lucius. Since then, he stood brooding in the shadows of the surrounding trees, looking every bit as uncomfortable as Harry felt himself.

Night had fully arrived and the air was filled with tense anticipation. The tension reached a temporal maximum as lord Voldemort finally emerged from the train and, without acknowledging any of them, strode past their little crowd and began walking towards the distant mansion.

The group immediately began walking after him and Harry trailed slightly behind them.

Harry tried to look on the bright side of the whole event while he slowly made his way up the hill.

He had heard there would be food. A lot of food. Free food. And Harry certainly wouldn't hold back if that was actually true.

Also, there would be music. Not a single musician either, apparently there would be a whole bunch of people playing different kinds of instruments at the same time. Harry had heard the different sounds certain instruments could make on several occasions, he had even heard an old record playing at the inn once. But those were very rare events. Remus and Sirius had been gushing about their nights full of wonderful music in the past, and Harry felt like he would finally get to know what they were talking about.

He wasn't sure about the dancing part though.

His goal for tonight? Get in, eat and listen. Don't get involved in anything and stay the hell away from Riddle. He had been in the lord's company for far too many hours in the past few days.

Harry snapped out of his musings when he almost tripped over a stone in the dark. He looked around and found himself completely alone. Riddle and his followers were already way ahead of him, only a small moving spot in the darkness.

He wasn't too concerned, since the lights of the mansion provided everything he needed to orientate himself.

He began walking a bit faster, only to realise that the group was already very near its destination. If he wanted to catch up to them before they disappeared inside, he would have to run.

He had only just started when he almost crashed into someone who came running through the trees to his left and forced him to quickly dodge aside.

"Wha-..!" he exclaimed startled before his sudden change of direction brought him off-balance and he fell quite ungracefully to the ground.

"Oh I'm sorry," apologized a soft voice above him.

Harry looked up and froze.

He had always been surrounded with people who were at least ten years older than him and in the past few days, he had gotten used to Draco's tiny frame. But he had never _ever_ met someone from his own age group.

Give or take a few years, the girl was exactly as old as Harry. She was a bit smaller than him, with striking grey eyes and long, blonde hair that gently waved around her head in the night's breeze.

Harry would have mistaken her for another member of the Malfoy family, except there was absolutely no trace of their cool composure. Her expression was open and her big eyes gave her a look of constant wonder.

"Are you alright?" the girl asked, when Harry continued to just sit there and stare at her. She was so _young_. Harry wondered if he appeared so young to the others as well.

"Err…yeah, ah, it's nothing really," he stammered embarrassed and got up.

He couldn't see very well in the dark, but his clothes were bound to at least be a bit dirty over his knees. Narcissa would kill him. If Riddle didn't get him first.

"It's much better now don't you think?" the girl smiled happily at him.

"Uhm…what is?"

"Your clothes!" she laughed, "they suit you more now."

Speechless, Harry once again just stared at her.

"We should run again," the girl, no; the young women, remarked airily.

"Why are you running?" asked Harry confused.

She looked at him as if he just asked her why the sun went down at night. "Because I want to of course," she laughed.

There were a hundred questions running through Harry's head by then, at least ten of them concerning the sanity of the girl, but he stayed silent.

"Come on!" she urged and began running. Not knowing what else to do, Harry ran after her.

She didn't exactly run, she was more bouncing than anything and Harry easily kept up with her.

"Who are you?" he asked her, failing to keep his bafflement out of his voice. The girl was behaving like no one he had ever met.

"I'm me," she replied simply and began humming softly to herself.

Harry wasn't sure if there was a point in keeping up the conversation, but he decided to do it anyway. "Why are you alone?"

"Because you are too," she hummed.

Right, no point at all.

"But don't worry, you won't be for much longer," she smiled at him happily.

Harry decided to keep quiet for the rest of their little jogging tour, but he caught himself stealing glances at the girl beside him more than once.

They arrived at the top of the hill and the girl slowed down until they were walking through an open iron gate.

The gate led them inside an inner courtyard, which was completely illuminated by torches and decorated with flowers, stone statues and a huge well filled with crystal clear water. The casual display of clean water screamed of power and made Harry frown in distaste.

Several small groups stood in the courtyard and murmured lowly, while others made their way past the massive wooden entrance door that led inside.

"My lady!" cried a man from the middle of the courtyard and sprinted towards them. His face was filled with relief.

"My lady where have you been? We were sick with worry!" the man exclaimed visibly shaken and wrung his hands.

"Lady?!" asked Harry both shocked and alarmed. A part of him realised that he had never even heard of a female to lead a group, the other part was worrying if he had just accidentally insulted a powerful figure.

"I…err…sorry if-…"

"This is the boy I've talked about", interrupted the girl gently and tugged at his arm.

The man looked him up and down distractedly, but soon began fussing over her clothes and hair instead.

"Huh?" made Harry numbly. This just got weirder and weirder. How did she know him?

And as if this situation wasn't already awkward enough, he saw Riddle moving towards them.

He half expected the lord to simply drag him away, but to his overwhelming surprise, Riddle bent down gracefully and placed his lips shortly on the girl's free hand.

"Lady Luna, it's a pleasure to finally meet you." Riddle's voice was deep and rich, his eyes focused on the young woman's face.

Luna seemed to consider him for a long moment before she smiled at him.

"I don't think I like you much," she told him dreamily.

Both Harry and the man next to Luna tensed visibly. Riddle stood before the much smaller girl calmly, unfazed at her statement.

"But I like him," Luna continued and tugged at Harry's arm again, "and I can't have one without the other so…You're okay." She smiled again.

Riddle smiled back sweetly and Harry let out a stressed breath. For a second there he hadn't been sure if Luna would survive this conversation. As far as Harry knew, she was the first person who had talked to lord Voldemort openly and completely fearless.

Luna turned back to Harry. "Beware of the apples," she told him seriously, "they are thinking mischievous thoughts tonight."

"Uhm…thanks..?"

Luna winked at him and curtsied in front of Riddle before leaving with the still worried man.

"What in the world..?" asked Harry no one in particular after she was gone.

"That was Luna Lovegood, beloved lady of the group which conveniently named itself 'Moon'," answered Riddle matter-of-factly.

"And you know her because..?"

"I've never met her before. I heard she separates allies from enemies based on whether she liked the group's lord or not."

Harry looked at him warily. "She said she didn't like you."

"She said I was okay, thanks to you," smirked Riddle satisfied, "I thought I would have to spend at least one evening trying to win her over. Her group adores her. She's like a wild card and I have no wish to oppose someone as unpredictable as her."

"Good, because that's one challenge you would have gone to without my support," remarked Harry darkly.

"Ah yes, a lost-generation just like you. But she has a group of devoted followers behind her, what do you have hmm?" taunted Riddle.

"A very annoying lord it seems."

Riddle only smiled smugly. "Who you will address with 'my lord' from now on"

Harry muttered something incomprehensible but he knew that was one argument he had no chance to win. Riddle couldn't risk to appear lax in front of the other lords and having a follower who didn't address him properly would be taken as blatant disrespect.

It didn't mean Harry had to like it.

"And was I helpful in your task to acquire new allies, _my lord_?" he asked sarcastically.

"Immensely," replied Riddle pleased, "I thought I would have to hide you because of your atrocious manners, but now I see that they might have their uses."

"Atroci-...My manners are perfectly fine!" sputtered Harry indignantly.

Riddle tilted his head smirking.

"My lord," Harry added hastily, realising his mistake.

Riddle only shook his head in disbelief and began walking towards the entrance where the rest of their group waited.

"Where's Snape?" Harry asked him when he didn't see the familiar black figure among them.

Immediately Riddle's mood darkened. "Why do you insist on his company so much?"

"I like him," Harry shrugged.

Riddle snorted. "I assure you it's not mutual. If I know one thing about that man it's that he hates everyone."

 _He liked my mom_ , Harry almost retorted, but decided to stay silent.

The group walked up to the massive entrance and Riddle had to show his invitation before they were allowed to pass.

Harry had the distinct feeling that Riddle would not have a hard time intimidating the other guests, because the man who had to control the incoming lords had been shaking with fear as he nervously took their invitation. Whether it was because of Riddle's menacing aura or the rumours that must have spread through the country, Harry didn't know.

The foyer was huge and full with people. Every bit of the room was decorated richly and dark, wooden doors stood open to allow passage to the other rooms. Through the tallest one, Harry could see an even larger room with long tables on the sides and free space in the middle. He assumed that it was the main hall of the mansion. A wide, long stair led to the upper floors.

Harry realized that at first sight, the mansion appeared completely open and welcoming. But there were a few smaller doors that remained firmly closed, and Harry could see narrow corridors that were left completely unilluminated.

They entered the main hall and Harry had to stop his jaw from dropping. Never in his life had he seen such excess of luxury. The tables were loaded with massive amounts of food, there wasn't a single dirty spot on the white marble floor and every table-cloth and curtain appeared to be brand new. All the guests were dressed in extravagant clothes that were completely impractical and only served to show off their status.

"Stop gaping," murmured Riddle besides him, "they will be watching your every step, you have to appear naturally at ease if you don't want to attract further attention."

Harry frowned. "Yeah I'm sure I'll fit in just perfectly," he remarked drily.

The sheer cleanness of the room made him uncomfortable, not to mention all the people. He hated large crowds. There was a reason why he only ever had two close friends.

Voldemort made an authoritative sign and his group casually disbanded. Harry had never seen the gesture before, but he guessed it meant something like 'go mingle with the others'. Lovely.

He observed the other members as they walked away. Harry had thought of some of them as mere brutes, but now he saw that every one of them held themselves with a natural grace. The Malfoy's blended in completely but even Bellatrix appeared relaxed and composed.

Harry still didn't like his ridiculous clothes but he began to appreciate them. If he had worn his normal clothes or even the clean ones from Riddle, he would have looked completely out of place. At least that way the other guests wouldn't be immediately suspicious of him.

As he made his way slowly towards one of the tables, Harry once again tried to look at the bright side of his situation.

He had gotten in without any further problems – apart from his weird interaction with the young lady Luna – and there was indeed free food. If he just minimized his interactions with the other guests, he should be able to survive this evening.

He avoided eye contact with the people near him and came to a stop in front of one of the long tables.

He stood there for quite some time, simply staring at all the different food. At last he decided that it must seem odd to the others if he continued to just stand there, so he took up a small plate and began randomly filling it with as many different dishes as possible.

He almost began to dig in, when he remembered Riddle's comment about his manners. Was it okay to eat now? Was there a right way of eating? Should he find somewhere to sit?

Growing frustrated at his ignorance, he carefully stole glances at the other guests. Most of the dishes were served in small pieces that would allow the guests to eat with one bare hand. When Harry saw some of the pompously dressed people eat from their plates in no particular way, he decided that it was save for him to take a bite too.

"You sure it's not poisoned?" came a voice from behind him.

Alarmed, Harry stopped chewing and turned to the man who had spoken. When he took in the other man's appearance, he had to retain himself from choking on his food.

His face was covered in scars and a chunk of his nose was missing. He had grey, shoulder-length hair and appeared to be in his fifties. He wore a black eye-patch where his left eye should have been and when Harry looked down he saw that the man also had a wooden leg.

"Err, sorry, what?" asked Harry once he had found his voice again.

"Constant vigilance!" barked the man and held up a warning finger. "If you let your guard down in such a place they'll eat _you_ instead of the food boy."

Harry looked down at his plate, feeling a bit uneasy.

"Err…" he began, having no clue what the man expected from him.

A harsh laugh made him look up again.

"You're not used to these sort of things eh?" He nodded vaguely in Voldemort's direction.

"You came in with that ominous fellow?"

"Yes…" affirmed Harry warily.

The man chortled amused. "No 'don't you dare talk about my lord like that'? Folks usually get pissed off easily about that sort of thing."

Harry looked at him blankly which made the man laugh again.

"I think I like you boy. That lord of yours…Is he one to have anger fits, letting them out on other groups?"

"No, he does that to his own members," answered Harry honestly.

The man grinned at him. It distorted his scarred face even more.

"Alastor Moody." The man extended an equally scarred hand to him.

It took Harry a moment to react to his sudden introduction. They shook hands.

"Harry Potter," he replied formally. Then, remembering his former slip-up with lady Luna, he continued carefully. "Err, you're not a lord, are you?"

Moody apparently found his question hilarious. "Gods no! I'm not one to lead and certainly not one to follow. I'm one of the few non-members and I'll bloody well stay one. When I saw you I just thought you kinda gave off that vibe too, you know?"

"Oh…Yeah, I'm sort of…new at this," confessed Harry.

"Thought so," grunted Moody pleased.

"But if you aren't in a group then why are you here?" asked Harry, feeling his curiosity grow at the strange man.

"Because I know stuff. I've seen one or two things too many for them to let me wander about freely. Makes them nervous. It's their fault really. They can't separate gossip from true facts."

"And what's the newest gossip?"

Moody tilted his head slightly and scratched his chin. "Superstitious folk say there's a pair of demons wandering about, killing unjust lords."

Harry frowned at that. He had never heard anything remotely resembling planned attacks that targeted only the lords. Besides, demons? Who had thought of that nonsense?

"What does non-superstitious folk say?"

Moody looked at him oddly. "They say there's a pair of fine men wandering about doing the right thing. So I give you a fair heads up boy, keep a close eye on that one."

He nodded jerkily in Voldemort's direction.

Harry froze when he saw Riddle talking with lord Scrimgeour and a few other men. By their composure, Harry guessed they were all lords as turned and met Harry's eyes. With a smug expression, he beckoned Harry to come over.

Harry's face darkened. His sour expression made Moody laugh again. "It's good to see some resistance for a change. All those lords turned the people into reverent, drooling idiots if you ask me."

Harry sighed. "I'd still better get going."

"Sure. Just remember…" Moody dropped his voice conspiratorial and Harry had to lean in to understand him.

"Constant vigilance!" Moody bellowed and Harry reared back in shock.

Moody grinned his askew grin again and hobbled off.

Disconcerted, Harry began to wonder if there were _normal_ people attending this event.

He reached the small group of lords and stood still as they eyed him critically.

"Mr Potter," smiled Scrimgeour pleasingly, "it's nice to meet you again."

"The pleasure is all yours I'm sure," replied Harry coolly.

Riddle coughed. When Harry looked closer, he saw that Riddle was actually hiding an amused smile.

One of the other lords obviously wasn't as amused.

"We heard tales about your little stunt with lord Fudge in London. They say you had to grovel on the ground like a scared kid."

Harry reflexively balled his hands as cold anger washed over him. But he knew losing his temper would only confirm their opinion about him and he took a deep breath instead.

Then he smiled broadly. "I only imitated the original to the best of my abilities sir."

He saw Riddle tensing almost invisible while keeping his expression carefully blank. His eyes on the other hand seemed to skin Harry alive. However, instead of choking him to death, Riddle skilfully diverted the attention of the perplexed lords with a few trivial comments.

They soon lost interest in Harry and walked away. Harry noticed how they unconsciously followed Riddle's lead. He was expertly controlling them already without them even noticing it.

He guessed it was a good sign, but it also put him on guard at how easy it was for Riddle to manipulate other people.

"Isn't his humour just precious?" he heard Riddle laugh at them smoothly.

Harry's cheeks burned with hot fury at the patronizing tone.

Riddle lazily turned back and smirked at him. It wasn't a nice smirk either, it looked more like a feral grin. Combined with his glowing red eyes, he looked a bit too much like a beast for Harry's liking. And a smug one at that.

Oh so Riddle wanted to play?

Game on bastard.

.


	17. Chapter 17

Harry soon found out that the other guests would not simply overlook him, no matter how hard he tried to ignore them.

Luckily, he also realised that while the mansion was indeed full of lords and ladies, each of them had brought about ten followers with them. This meant that even though the ball was held for the lords, there were still ten times as many normal members attending.

To Harry's relief, most of the people approaching him were mere followers that only asked him a few basic question. As long as Harry stayed reasonably polite, they left him alone pretty soon.

Sadly, his goal to make them leave as quickly as possible was not at all what his assignment was.

"Our lord has requested me to convey the following message," informed him Lucius, while his wife was fussing over Harry's slightly dirty clothes. Draco had to stay at their little camp for safety measures, protected by two other members.

"He congratulates you for staying out of trouble so far, but kindly urges you to use your social interactions to gain information and strengthen possible group alliances."

Harry snorted. "You can tell him to kindly piss of."

Lucius looked affronted.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Okay fine. Tell him I'll make it my personal quest to make the others like him. If they approach him with presents, he'll know that I succeeded."

Lucius looked more than a bit suspicious at his sudden change of heart but seemed to accept it.

"Oh and Mr Malfoy?" Harry called after him as they left him. "What's his preferred food?"

The Malfoy's exchanged glances at that.

"I've never heard our lord mention anything specific, so long as it wasn't too sweet," answered Narcissa after a while.

Harry beamed at her. "Perfect, thanks!"

Armed with the knowledge that Riddle didn't like sweets, Harry set out to work. Most of the other guests were naturally curious about the young lord that appeared seemingly out of nowhere. However, he presented an unknown figure in their game and they were unsure how to approach him.

With malicious glee, Harry began to spread rumours about the mysterious and handsome lord.

Under no circumstances should they accept his hand to shake. He hated to be touched. He was afraid of chairs. He drank blood. They should cover their eyes when he smiled, or it would anger and embarrass him. He preferred blond women. He never slept. He could read minds. He was insulted if people laughed in his company. He loved sweets and only talked to people who offered him something sweet to eat beforehand.

No matter how ridiculous his tales were, people spread them. And soon he could see a small crowd of people forming around Riddle, every single one of them holding some kind of chocolate or desert, trying their best not to smile at him and in turn covering their eyes hastily whenever he attempted to charm them with his smile.

The best part about it? If Riddle didn't want to appear rude, he would have to stay polite and act delighted at their presents.

Was Harry's plan childish? Of course it was. Was it fun? Hell yes.

Harry observed joyfully as Riddle grew more and more confused at the sudden flood of sweets, while trying his best to act calm and composed. Harry had to laugh out loud when an overeager women pointedly removed a chair in front of him.

Unfortunately, his laugh alerted Riddle to his position and when the smoldering red eyes found him, his cheerfulness evaporated at the sheer promise of pain that radiated from those eyes.

Oh well, just because he would end his little game now didn't mean the rumours would stop.

Pleased with himself, Harry decided to leave the main hall for a while to investigate the other rooms.

Apparently the music and occasional dancing would take place in the main hall, which was the largest room of the mansion. But since the music had not started yet, the entrance hall was still full of people.

Harry left the crowded place as quickly as possible and walked into a smaller, but still richly decorated, room. The light was dimmer here than in the bright main hall, as candles were the only source of light in this room. Once again, Harry was stunned at how much effort went into little things. The candles weren't just a clump of wax like when they were used for practical reasons. They were thin and smooth, with elegant carvings marking every single one of them.

There were relatively few people in this room and Harry guessed it represented a place where people could go and talk in private once the ball really got started.

Harry decided to leave this room as well to check out the second floor, but something or rather someone made him stop dead in his tracks.

He stood in the corner next to the door that led back to the entrance hall, talking with two other men. Harry only saw him from behind, but when the man's head turned slightly to speak to his companions, he could see some of his face as well.

_Impossible._

"Dumbledore?!"

.

* * *

.

Severus Snape was a master of concealment. Even in the bright main hall with white marble floors, he still found enough shadows to hide himself.

Lucius often joked about his rejection of social interactions, but even he had to admit that in the end, it was Severus who brought in the most information. They had a competition of sorts; Lucius was trying to pry every bit of information out of gossip and polite talking, while Severus kept to the shadows and simply observed.

Though tonight, Snape feared he might just lose their little battle. His hiding spot was perfect to observe the whole main hall and analysing the guests should have been child's play for him - if he hadn't been so damn distracted.

The most interesting person to observe in this mansion was - by far - Harry Potter.

Snape wasn't attracted to the boy by any means, though to be fair, the boy did look stunning in his dark green robes and he did clean up very nice indeed, but his appearance wasn't what intrigued Severus tonight. It was his behaviour.

The young man had everything a person needed to success in politics. Handsome, adequately dressed, gracious, a charming smile and a sharp mind. By all means, Harry should have every last guest in the palm of his hands by now. But the boy was so oblivious to his situation, it was almost comical.

Did he know that conversations stopped whenever he neared a small crowd? Had he realised that almost every head turned when he left the main hall? No. Of course he hadn't.

In a way, Harry was the exact opposite of lord Voldemort. The lord knew precisely what effect he had on people. It allowed him to manipulate them skilfully. Harry on the other hand seemed oddly clueless about that sort of power.

Watching him standing uncertain alone by the buffet, glancing around nervously – most likely praying that he would be left alone – made Severus grin uncharacteristically.

Harry obviously gave himself too little credit. The boy was confident about his intelligence but that was about it. Life had taught him that other people wouldn't think twice about killing a lost-generation like him.

What Harry didn't realise was that the tables had begun to turn. His young face didn't earn him solely mistrustful glances anymore, instead Severus could see the admiration and fascination on the other guests faces. But Harry would never even consider that those admiring looks could be directed at him.

Oh Snape was certain Harry could read other people's emotions flawlessly, the poor boy just had no idea about the _causes._

Severus guessed that was why Harry still dared to play with lord Voldemort. There was no other explanation for it. Either Harry really was clueless about the consequences of his actions, or he had a death wish.

In the past few days, Snape had seen the way the two interacted and had felt the shift in the atmosphere when they were in the same room. Whatever deluded the boy to think it was safe to push the lord even further, it could not be healthy.

For whenever Harry managed to get one over Voldemort, it was not anger that Severus saw in his lord's crimson eyes.

And that scared him, more than anything.

.

* * *

.

"Dumbledore?!" Harry repeated, completely shocked. His brain seemed to have stopped working completely, while his heart beat so hard Harry could swear everyone in the room would hear it.

"No way, absolutely no fucking way. You're dead! I personally dragged your body up those stairs! You're-…" he stopped uncertainly when the man turned to him fully.

The long silver-grey hair was the same, as were the piercing blue eyes and his stature. But the nose was slightly off, his features were harder and while he was clearly marked by age, he appeared to be a tad younger than Dumbledore.

"Did you kill him?" asked the stranger, his voice void of all emotions.

Harry instantly grew wary. Whoever this was, it was clear he knew Dumbledore and already was informed of his death.

"Who am I talking to?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Dumbledore," replied the man.

"You're not Dumbledore," objected Harry firmly. The longer he stared at the man, the more obvious that fact became.

The man looked at him displeased, but firmly. "I may not be Albus Dumbledore, but I am a Dumbledore"

_Brothers._

Harry felt a headache fast approaching him. He had basically just told a stranger that he had dragged his brother's dead body to god knows where.

"Shit. Look I'm sorry, I-…"

"Did you kill him?" interrupted the man calmly.

"No," answered Harry honestly.

"Do you know who did?"

Harry's suspicion doubled. "Why?"

"So I can thank him," stated the man hoarsely.

Harry gaped at him, completely taken aback. "Why would you want your own brother dead?"

It was the man's turn to narrow his eyes suspiciously. "Who am _I_ speaking to?"

They eyed each other sceptically.

Finally, the man led out a weary sigh. "You asked me first, I guess…" He extended a callous hand. "Aberforth Dumbledore."

"Harry Potter," replied Harry, still stunned.

Aberforth's eyes went wide. "Potter?! Heavens above, you're… "

Harry had had a few bad experiences too many with people reacting to his name, so he took a good measured step back.

"I'm what?" he hissed unnerved. What was it now?

Aberforth's eyes darted around hectically. "Gods, not here boy."

Before Harry could react, Aberforth grabbed him firmly and pulled him out of the room, through the entrance hall and up the stairs, then through a glass door that led them on a spacious balcony.

When he had made sure they were alone, Aberforth let go of Harry and towered over him agitatedly.

"Are you crazy?! What are you doing here? Do you _want_ to be killed?"

Once again taken aback by his reaction, Harry stared at him stupidly and rubbed his arm.

"Your brother tried that already," grumbled Harry.

"And you thought coming here was safe after his death? I can't believe they would allow you to come."

Harry grew more and more confused. "They? What are you talking about?"

Aberforth stared at him just as confused. "The family I gave you to, they-…"

"You what?!" Harry all but shrieked.

"You don't know," the tall man took a step back. Then another. His expression altered between amazement and horror. "What happened? Why can you not remember them?"

Why did everyone assume Harry's memory must be lacking? It wasn't his bloody fault he had been left alone!

"You must have the wrong person. I was not brought up by anyone. I survived on my own," explained Harry brusque.

Aberforth laughed desperately. "I found you after that fire, I took you away because I knew Albus would be sceptical whether you're really dead. I took you and gave you to a pair who had kids of their own. We didn't know what would happen to the world after the Potters failed, but we knew it would be bad."

Harry gaped at him, not quite believing what he was hearing. There he was; the man who could finally provide him with some solid answers. "My birth certificate…"

"Yes, I took that as well. I didn't know your first name at that time and I felt your parents deserved that their boy would be named like they wanted him to." Aberforth's voice was bitter with emotions. "What happened? Why are you not with the pair I gave you to?"

"How should I know? They must have abandoned me when the chaos started."

"They would have died for you." The certainty in his voice made Harry take a step back as if the man had physically pushed him.

"You seem awfully sure. Parents abandoned their own beloved children during the chaos, surely some strange kid-…"

"Every single one of us would have died for your parents and you."

Again, the unwavering conviction he heard in Aberforth's voice was almost too much to handle for Harry. Then a dark sensation of dread slowly crept over him and made his skin crawl.

"Who the hell is _us_?"

It appeared that his question robbed the last bit of Aberforth's composure. The man gaped openly at him. "You don't know. Oh my god you really don't know."

"Yes, he doesn't have a clue," a new voice said from behind them. Harry didn't have to turn around to know who it was. Apparently, neither did Aberforth.

"Alastor!" Aberforth seemed relieved to see the scarred figure. "Did you know he would be here?" He pointed almost accusingly at Harry, as if this was all his fault.

"Absolutely not. When I saw him here, I knew right away something was up," grunted Moody.

Harry looked from Aberforth to Moody and back again, then threw his hands up in exasperation when none of them continued. "I'm sorry, does anyone care to explain to me why the whole country knows me?"

Moody turned to him and grinned wildly. "Your mother earned you quite a reputation boy. And a death sentence along with it."

"But why?! I thought my mother just happened to cross Dumbledore's plans," Harry looked guiltily at Aberforth, "err, I mean Albus' plans."

Aberforth didn't seem to mind and shook his head vividly. "Oh no this is much bigger than my dear brother. We are talking about the world and its current pitiful state."

"They fear you because your mother almost destroyed them without even knowing what she was fighting against," Moody filled in fluently. Harry guessed the two men knew each other since quite a while.

"Fighting against _what?_ " pressed Harry.

"Against them," whispered Aberforth.

Harry glared at him frustrated. "Them, us…I have no clue what you're talking about!"

"Us. The resistance," clarified Moody.

Harry's headache doubled. He still had no idea what was going on, but he had the unpleasant feeling that he wouldn't like it one bit. "Can you start at the beginning?"

"Not here boy. Half of the lords here would kill us instantly if they found out we're with the resistance. Let alone that you are Harry Potter," snorted Moody. The rough man seemed to find some dark humour in their situation.

Harry realised that while they knew what was going on, they didn't know his whole story. "But they know who I am, Scrimgeour must have told them by now!"

As expected, Aberforth's eyes widened in shock. "You met Scrimgeour? How? When?"

"The real question is, why have they not killed him yet?" interjected Moody darkly.

Their reactions confirmed Harry's suspicion that Scrimgeour was just as involved as Dumbledore had been. "Okay I have no idea what you want from me, but this resistance, has it anything to do with the renovation gu-…"

Aberforth hastily clasped a hand over Harry's mouth. "Are you out of your mind?!" he hissed.

"Is there a problem here?" interrupted a cool voice from behind.

Aberforth slowly let go of Harry and took a step back. "Not at all."

Harry began to suspect that their current location wasn't exactly safe enough for them to discuss private matters.

"Mr Malfoy," Harry greeted nonchalantly. He wasn't afraid that Lucius posed a threat to them, but he knew the blond would report everything back to Riddle. Explaining to Riddle that half of the resident lords wanted to kill him was about the last thing Harry wanted to do.

Lucius eyed Aberforth and Moody critically before turning to Harry. He clearly didn't approve of Harry's choice of location, nor his company.

"The lord has requested your presence," he stated finally.

Harry huffed annoyed at Lucius' firm tone. Was he Riddle's personal messenger now?

He opened his mouth to retort but Malfoy had apparently anticipated his refusal. "Immediately," he pointed out.

Harry closed his mouth and rolled his eyes instead.

"You'll be staying for the rest of the ball?" he asked Aberforth and Moody, trying to sound casual for Lucius' sake.

"I'm sure we will find an opportunity to…continue our discussion," agreed Aberforth formally.

Harry hated Riddle for his timing. He had finally found someone who had all the answers but he had to leave them with more questions than before.

His thoughts still on the conversation he just had, Harry followed Lucius distraught. He was so deep in his own thoughts that he almost bumped into Lucius when they stopped. When Harry finally took notice of his surroundings, he was surprised that Lucius had not led him back to the main hall. Instead, they stood at the end of a dimly illuminated corridor on the second floor.

Even more surprising was the sheer number of people flanking each side of the corridor. They all seemed to wait for something.

Harry looked at Lucius questioningly.

"Followers are not allowed inside," Malfoy answered his unspoken question. "They wait for their lords to finish whatever business they have in there."

Harry noticed that they all seemed a bit unsettled. He guessed they were either unhappy about the denied entrance or nervous that something might happen to their lords while they weren't there to protect them.

"So we wait?" Harry asked, angry that Riddle had pulled him away from such a crucial conversation just so he could wait outside a closed door like a bloody dog.

" _I_ wait," clarified Lucius, " _you_ go in there."

"Absolutely not," refused Harry immediately, before even fully processing what Malfoy just said.

Lucius scowled at him. It was a strange expression on his usually blank face. "Our lord has given me the order to bring you to him. You will go in there or I'll drag you personally."

Lucius tone implied that there was no room for argument. His steady voice reminded Harry that Riddle had picked each of his followers for a reason. While Lucius' behaviour sometimes suggested that he belonged in a much cleaner and softer world, deep down he was sturdy and unyielding.

Unyielding with the exception of Voldemort of course.

"You said no followers are allowed inside. Unless I've suddenly been promoted to the ranks of a lord, I can't enter that room."

Lucius quirked a perfect eyebrow at that. "And since when do _you_ care about rules?"

Harry pouted amused. "Why has everyone such a low opinion about my manners?"

"Because you blatantly refuse your orders," remarked Lucius and gave the closed door a pointed look.

Harry frowned at it and at the members of different groups flanking the corridor.

"They won't attack me or something, right?" he asked a bit uncertain.

Lucius only shrugged.

"Very helpful," glared Harry, but eventually began to walk down the last bit of the corridor.

Sure enough, the men and women standing at each side of the walls glowered at him suspiciously. Harry almost expected them to stop him, but he arrived in front of the door without any problems.

He grabbed the doorknob and pushed the door open, feeling dozens of eyes glaring at him from behind.

He prepared himself and entered the room. It was empty.

Harry frowned and looked around in case there were more doors, but the only things in the room was a ruby carpet and a single torch next to the door he had entered.

Confused, Harry wanted to turn back and ask Lucius about it, when he heard faint murmuring coming from one side of the room.

Harry stared at the blank wall. Then he slowly approached it, noticing how the voices grew louder. The lords must be in an adjacent room, which did not make any sense since there had only been one door outside.

He pressed one ear against the wall, but the voices were too faint to understand anything. He carefully knocked against it. The hollow sound confirmed his suspicion that there had to be an adjacent room. He observed the wooden tiles suspiciously. Everyone fit in nicely, but when Harry traced the wood grains he saw that one tile had a different pattern than the rest of them.

Harry's frown deepened. Surely that would be a bit…too adventurous? Hidden doors and secret opening mechanisms seemed a bit too much. Still, he had to try. He poked the strange tile and was surprised when it fell off immediately. Behind it, there was a very small slot with a piece of wire in it. Harry grinned. He could get used to those kind of doors.

He couldn't see where the wire led, nor had he enough information to take a good guess, but he was pretty certain he had to pull it.

He grabbed the end of it and contemplated how much force he should apply in order for the mechanism to work. In the end, he decided that the door was usually probably handled by someone bigger and stronger than him, so a bit force couldn't hurt.

He grabbed the wire more securely and stemmed one foot against the wall. Then he took a deep breath and _pulled_.

There was a disconcerting, awfully loud crack, before the whole wall came crashing towards him.

Harry yelped surprised and tried to jump away from it. Unfortunately, the wire was still firmly wrapped around his hand, pulling him forward instead. The force send Harry stumbling through masses of splintered wood and stone, sharp edges scratching his bare hands and cheek.

With one last loud thump, the remaining pieces of the wall shattered on the ground around him. Then there was silence.

Harry slowly opened his eyes, not sure when he had closed them.

The floor around him was covered in debris, a huge door-shaped gap remained where once had been solid wall. Harry could feel blood tickling down his right cheek while he stood there stupidly staring ahead of him.

The room behind the wall was long and well-lit. A dark wooden table filled almost the entire room.

There were about thirty lords and a few ladies sitting at the table, every single one of them staring back at Harry.

"Err..." Harry cleared his throat uncomfortable, a severed piece of wire still in his hand. "Sorry about that," he apologized meekly, pointing vaguely behind him where he had just destroyed their secret - and possibly ancient - doorway.

No one moved.

"Well…" drawled Riddle's silky voice from across the room, "I told you he would manage it without a guide."

.


	18. Chapter 18

"How on earth did you do that?!"

A broad-shouldered lord near Harry looked at him incredulously. Harry was relieved to note that most of the lords in the room looked simply shocked rather than angry.

"I, err, pulled..?" suggested Harry sheepishly. In retrospect, it wasn't the best idea he ever had.

"You _pulled_? I pulled that wire a hundred times, all I managed was an open door, not the complete destruction of a solid wall!" exclaimed the man, a small grin forming on his lips.

The lord was tall and broad, with brown, shoulder-length hair and features that could only be described as majestic. Yet the small grin alone managed to give him a boyish look.

"He has a knack for destruction that one," chuckled Riddle darkly, reminding Harry that the bastard enjoyed having him in trouble way too much.

"I like him, he's got an open face. Unlike his lord." The man shot Voldemort a disapproving look.

Harry liked him instantly. Finally someone who appeared to be immune to Riddle's manipulative charms. On the other hand, Riddle didn't seem to have done anything to deserve the man's hostility. That meant the man judged people a bit too quick for Harry's liking.

Riddle tilted his head, his pleasant expression unwavering. "Have I done something to offend you, lord Gryffindor?"

The lord next to Harry sighed and cleared his features. "Not at all lord Voldemort. Forgive me, I've been told to come across as rather reckless. Though…" he turned grinning to Harry, "Not quite as reckless as your young follower."

"I'm sorry, Lucius must have forgotten to give me proper instructions about how to open hidden doorways," remarked Harry drily.

"Well then," Scrimgeour who sat at the top of the table clapped his hands to get everyone's attention, "are we all here now? Lord Voldemort?"

Riddle broke eye contact with lord Gryffindor and nodded once in Scrimgeour's direction.

"He is but a boy," interjected one of the few women in the room.

Riddle kept his face carefully blank, but Harry knew he had to retain himself from rolling his eyes in a very un-lord like manner.

"You haven't told me what you obviously expect me to do. All you did was asking for details about my unexpected challenge against lord Fudge and then demanded to meet the responsible person before continuing. So…" He made a grand gesture towards Harry, "There he is. Whether you believe it or not. Now what is this all about?"

Responsible person? Trust Riddle to make him look like a criminal...

Scrimgeour cleared his throat. "We had hoped you would consider lending us a helping hand in a certain matter. We can assure you it would also be in your interest to have this matter…dealt with."

Harry laughed. He couldn't help it. Hearing Scrimgeour of all people ask for his help after what he had done was just too comical.

"You've got some nerve-…" Harry began furiously.

" _Harry_ ," interrupted Riddle calmly.

Harry fidgeted agitated. He couldn't oppose Riddle in front of all the other lords, but he knew things Riddle didn't. Scrimgeour and half of the present lords wanted him dead. Moody and Aberforth had been quite certain of that fact.

The only thing that didn't add up was that the other half knew nothing of this mess. If they were involved in this matter as well, it meant it probably wasn't a mere trap for Voldemort. They actually wanted their help and Scrimgeour just pretended that nothing ever happened. He seemed perfectly content to use them for his means and then pursue his other plans.

It would explain why they hadn't killed Harry yet. According to Aberforth and Moody, this should have been the first and easiest thing to do. What if this matter had come up after Scrimgeour and Dumbledore had tried to kill him? Did this mean they needed him now so badly that they couldn't risk killing him?

But what could they possibly want from him that was important enough to stop their original plans?

"What matter?" inquired Riddle, sounding almost bored.

"We can't tell you if you don't agree to aid us beforehand," Scrimgeour smiled apologetic.

"What matter?" repeated Riddle, completely ignoring Scrimgeour's statement, making it clear he would do no such thing.

Scrimgeour looked displeased, but Harry knew it was too important for him to have Voldemort's help. Apparently Riddle knew this too, even without all the extra information Harry had.

"Oh for fuck's sake Rufus, just tell them already," exclaimed lord Gryffindor annoyed. He searched around in one of his coat pockets and put an object in front of Harry, who still stood at the end of the table.

Scrimgeour pinned Gryffindor down with an angry scowl, obviously not approving of his straightforward way.

"Here. Can you build this?" asked lord Gryffindor without further ado.

"That's all?" asked Harry incredulously.

He had expected something…well, bigger. They had arranged this secret meeting, maybe even this whole ball, to discuss this matter and that was all they needed Harry to do?

Gryffindor chuckled wryly. " _That_ has cost us more lives than all the challenges we had together."

Harry paused with his outstretched hand and looked at the lord questioningly.

"Oh no, it's not dangerous per se, it's just a very potent weapon in the hands of men," reassured him lord Gryffindor.

Harry carefully picked up the object. It was made out of metal mostly, and weighed quite a bit for its size. It had the shape of a short pipe, but it wasn't hollow.

Harry immediately considered it to be something explosive, but dismissed the notion due to the fact that they gave it to him so carelessly.

There was no way to open it, there wasn't even so much as a seam. Only a small button right where Harry's thumb came to rest if he held it comfortable in one hand. As there was nothing else to inspect, he pressed it.

A bright, red stream of light appeared at one end of the tube.

"A sword?" mused Harry, eying the red blade curiously.

"One that cuts through everything," replied Gryffindor darkly, "literally, _every_ thing."

Harry hastily let his hand drop that he had moved up to touch the blade.

"There is an increasingly powerful lord in the west. Too powerful. He destroys everything in his way and likes to torture his opponents as well as his...subjects. We have come to the conclusion that we cannot let him continue his terror. However…" Lord Gryffindor trailed off, looking at Scrimgeour.

"Even with all of us united, our forces were not enough. All of his men are equipped with one of those blades and we had no chance to stop them. They cut through our armour and shields like butter. At the end we had to retreat," confessed Scrimgeour, his face sour.

"Retreat?" Riddle perked up, "You didn't challenge him?"

One couldn't retreat from a challenge, only from a blatant attack. Meaning even with a huge amount of men and the benefit of surprise they had stood no chance. It made sense, if the blade really cut through everything the men would have nothing to defend themselves with. It was almost as bad as fighting against invisible enemies.

"When we heard of your incredible challenge against Fudge, we thought you must have used something that would allow you to win against an overpowering opponent," continued Gryffindor, "And you, lord Voldemort, told us it was this young man."

Harry looked up from his inspection and saw that everyone in the room stared at him.

"Come now, there must be someone amongst your ranks who specialises in mechanics," frowned Riddle.

Scrimgeour laughed hollow. "Oh there are, but all of them could do nothing except expressing their admiration for it. We can't get it to open, and without inspecting the inner mechanism, we can't copy it."

"Which is why it is doubtful that a mere boy should be able to do what dozens of our men couldn't," grumbled one of the lords.

A few others nodded their heads in agreement, others stared at them disapprovingly. The opinions about the involvement of Voldemort's small group were obviously split.

"We would give you some time of course," explained lord Gryffindor to Harry, "We can't allow you to take it with you, but you could inspect it here for the rest of the ball in order to figure it out."

Harry glanced at Riddle. Gryffindor was asking him, but technically it was lord Voldemort who had to agree. Riddle eyed the blade in Harry's hand pensively, but gave no hint as to how Harry should proceed.

"So what do you want me to do?" asked Harry the assembled lords. "Copy it? Explain the mechanism to you? Invent something to stop the blade?"

"Now look here you arrogant little-…" one of the lords began but Gryffindor held him back.

"Anything at all would be helpful really. Like I said, you'd have a few days to unders-…"

"That won't be necessary," interrupted Harry. He let the blade disappear and put the handle back down on the table. "I already did."

There was a shocked silence that followed his statement. Harry thought their reaction was rather amusing.

"You can't be serious," exclaimed lord Gryffindor aghast. "You didn't even open it! Not that that's possible…"

"Well, no, you're right. Without opening it, I won't be able to tell how exactly they made it." He looked around the table, seeing disappointment on half of the assembled faces, and grim satisfaction on the others.

"But, if you are merely looking to copy the functions of the blade, I can do that. It shouldn't be too hard, even though I have to admit the idea to use the properties of light is rather ingenious. I recommend using a wavelength in the blue spectrum though, it is shorter than red and should prove even more potent…Err…I can't say what they used to split the light, I have a few ideas but I'd need to run some tests…"

He trailed off, a bit disconcerted when he only received blank stares.

Actually, the device wasn't too complicated, the most work had been put into making sure no one could open the handle. Everyone with a bit skill could have built it otherwise. The only thing that really amazed Harry was how they had managed to fit such a small but powerful generator into the handle. If really every follower of that lord had such a thing, the group must possess an incredible amount of electrical power.

There was another long silence when everyone digested Harry's information.

"But that's not all is there?" drawled Riddle after a while. He had been quietly listening to everything so far, but now he leaned forward, his eyes dangerously narrowed.

"If you're just searching for someone to build you the same device, you could have simply asked him to inspect the thing directly. There is no need for us to know the whole plan, no need for you to ask us for further help."

Harry could see everyone's faces darken. A few shifted uneasy in their chairs. Fools. To Riddle, they were mere figures in his play, so easy to read.

"Since we attacked him directly, the group has taken careful precautions against further attacks. They have built an impregnable fortress and are more untouchable than ever," explained Scrimgeour, after recovering slightly from the shock of Harry's fast inspection.

"The only way to draw them out now is if someone challenges him."

Harry waited for someone to continue but everyone already seemed to understand his implications.

"And you need us because..?" prompted Harry.

"None of you can make the challenge, this lord is already well aware that you have formed an alliance against him and would know that something is up if only one of you challenged him. He would also become suspicious if some small, unknown group would suddenly challenge him," mused Riddle.

"Not wanting to be rude, _my lord_ ," mocked Harry slightly, "but wouldn't we count as a 'small unknown group'?"

Riddle smiled smugly and leaned back in his chair. "Small yes. But known for a very daring, one could almost say, _bizarre_ challenge against a much larger group. In other words, we're the perfect bait. Too small to threaten him and officially insane."

There was more restless shifting and none of the other lords quite met Voldemort's eyes. Harry could see that the smug smile never left Riddle's lips. Of course not. Over thirty lords were practically begging him to take care of this powerful lord, because they had failed. Meaning Riddle currently had them in the palm of his hands.

"And what is the name of our friend in the west?" he asked lowly.

"He calls himself the Bloody Baron," huffed lord Gryffindor.

Harry tried to hold back his laugh at the ridiculous name, but his body shook from the effort. Riddle only quirked an eyebrow.

Then he stood gracefully, brushing some imaginary dust from his robes. Everyone, including Harry, looked at him expectantly.

"I'll think about your request," he said graciously, "But for now, I believe we are missing a ball."

Riddle walked towards the destroyed exit and no one tried to stop him. It was painfully clear who held the upper hand in their meeting.

Harry followed Riddle with his eyes. He expected him to simply walk by him and planned to walk out after him like a good little follower would, but instead Riddle lay a hand on his shoulder and pushed him out in front of him.

The gesture might have looked gentle, but Riddle's grip was so fierce his nails dug into Harry's skin. Harry wondered if he had done something wrong or if this was just Riddle's normal manhandling again.

They crossed the empty room and entered the hallway, where the waiting members looked even more anxious than when Harry had left. They had probably heard the wall crash down, but couldn't see what was happening.

Riddle passed them without a second glance and pushed him in one of the smaller, darker corridors, hidden away from prying eyes and keen ears. Harry itched to run off and find Aberforth or Moody, but he knew he was trapped for now.

Riddle forced Harry to turn around but didn't let go of his shoulder.

"You, boy, are a wonder," he stated matter-of-factly

"Um…Go on please…"

"You are also the most insufferable and impudent little brat I've ever met." He leaned closer, his red eyes boring into Harry's green ones. "They asked me if I preferred to sit on the ground rather than on the chair…Any idea why that might be?"

"They didn't!" laughed Harry, imagining Riddle's face at the question.

He hissed when Riddle dug his nails even deeper into his shoulder, showing him just how displeased the man was.

"Oh come on! You're prideful reputation is safe and sound. You practically destroyed them in there! I almost pitied them. Leave the poor men a bit of their dignity would you?"

The scowl on Riddle's face made way for a _very_ smug smile, even for his standards.

"That's entirely their fault. There are a dozen better ways they could have handled the situation, but their fear made them panic and they acted too quickly. Instead of using me, they allowed me to use them. Once I've dealt with this Baron, I'll have his territory and over thirty influential lords in my debt."

"You actually plan on challenging him?"

"I have too little information right now, but we'll see."

Harry snorted internally at his confidence, but retained himself from rolling his eyes, since Riddle's grip still hadn't loosened a bit.

"Who was the lord sitting near me? You called him Gryffindor," he asked instead, keeping his face stubbornly blank. He didn't want Riddle to know his shoulder stung like hell.

"Lord Godric Gryffindor. Powerful, but rash. He possesses absolutely no subtlety and his plans are always glaring obvious. He owns this place and the lands around it, actually."

Harry reflexively looked around, even though there wasn't much to see in the dark corridor. "He owns it? I thought Scrimgeour did."

"Apparently Scrimgeour acts as the coordinator and the surrogate host, because Gryffindor doesn't care about these things. He only provided the setting."

"Was every invited lord in there? No wait…" Harry frowned in thought, "I didn't see lady Luna."

Riddle looked at him amused. "You've met her. She doesn't exactly…take part in such meetings. She has a bit of a reputation to just pop up in the middle of a battle and help either one side or even fight against both. As strange and unpredictable as her tactics are, she's never lost a fight."

Harry couldn't help but feel a bit relieved. He had rather liked the strange girl, he'd hated to think she was involved with Scrimgeour.

Then another thought made him frown. Would that even have been possible? She was young and whoever was after Harry wanted him dead because of the past. Were they all involved directly with his past, or did they simply have an alliance? How many of them actually _knew_ him?

Riddle's free hand snapped irritated in front of his face.

"What are you thinking in that mischievous pretty head of yours?"

Harry scowled at him. "How to break your fingers most efficiently if they don't let go immediately."

"What dark thoughts, _Harry._ I didn't know you were so sadistic," teased Riddle.

"You're one to talk! You smug a-…"

A long, spidery finger pressed firmly on his mouth, decisively shutting him up. The skin was smooth and cold to his lips. The gesture startled Harry and he froze like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

A small wry smile formed on Riddle's face. "Listen."

Harry strained his ears, expecting to hear someone approaching or maybe whispering. Instead, a soft, sweet sound filled the air.

Harry's eyes went wide at the foreign sound and he pulled himself free, Riddle's grip and finger completely forgotten. He ran out of the corridor and down the stairs, taking only small notice at the empty entrance hall.

Behind him, he could hear Riddle chuckle amused at his childish behaviour, but he didn't care. The music had started and he would be damned if he spent the time in some dark corridor instead of watching the musicians.

His enthusiasm dampened a bit at the sight of the crowded main hall. The room was huge, but with everyone gathered in the same place, it was almost unbearably full. Of course, his short height didn't exactly help him either.

He caught sight of a familiar blonde head right in front of the little platform with the musicians. He slipped past the mass of people blocking his way practically unnoticed and came to a stop next to Lucius and Narcissa.

Lucius turned his head at the jostling motion beside him. "Ah Mr Potter, I wondered how long it would take you. Will you be dancing?"

Harry could now see that the room wasn't entirely full. There was quite a bit of space cleared out in the middle of it, but no one was dancing yet. For now everyone seemed content with simply listening, waiting for the first daring pair to make its way onto the dance floor.

Harry laughed at Lucius' question. "Gods no! I'm just here for the music."

He looked up at the musicians and watched them curiously. They were amazing. The music was once bittersweet, once wild and funny, once calm and harmonic. So many different sounds coming from the same set of instruments. Harry simply loved it. This was much different from a single player. The harmonies were complex and puzzling, making the music seem alive and moving.

He didn't know the names of every instruments, and there were some sounds he had never heard before. He stood there for quite a while, trying to attribute the different sounds to their right origin.

"Aww, look at our Harrykins, all starry-eyed and enamoured!" Bellatrix's teasing voice cut through the music like a knife.

He hadn't noticed her appearance, he had been too concentrated on the music.

"The world could become jealous of the instruments for receiving so much admiration," nodded Lucius smiling.

Harry blushed between them. "Give me a break, I've never-…"

Bella latched onto his arm and grinned wildly at him. "You simply _must_ dance with me, thief."

Caught between protesting about her unjust choice of nickname and objecting to her ridiculous idea, he ended up being pulled away by her in the direction of the empty space.

He struggled against her pull, but he noticed some of the guests already staring at them and knew he couldn't throw a tantrum.

"Are you mad?" he hissed at her, pressing his heels into the ground in an attempt to slow her down.

"Maybe," she chirped nonchalantly.

"I can't dance!" Harry beseeched her in light panic.

"That doesn't mean you can't have fun."

Harry wanted to protest further, but the musicians started a particular wild and fast piece and Bellatrix began to move.

She twirled around him, pulling him with her and spun him like a twister. For a good minute, all Harry could do was trying to stay on his feet as the world whirled around him in a blurry rush of colours.

Bellatrix controlled his movements effortlessly, as if he was a puppet on her strings.

After finding his footing somewhat, he realized that the space wasn't empty anymore. A lot of the other guests had joined them and moved around them with the music.

He noticed that while Bella and him moved to the music as well, their movement was vastly different. Even though it was a fast piece, the other guests still managed to maintain a certain order in their dancing. If there was logic to Bellatrix's movements, Harry couldn't see it. But he could feel it.

He forced his brain to only concentrate on the wild music and began to play along with Bella's crazy movements. Swirling through the mass of moving bodies like leaves in a storm, he was surprised how much fun he had. They probably both looked completely crazy, but he didn't really care.

Bellatrix grinned broadly at him and he felt himself return her grin. He had rarely felt so thrilled before.

.

* * *

.

Tom Riddle was a planner. He liked to weigh his options, considering his choices and decide his next step according to his gain.

This didn't necessarily mean that he didn't like something unknown now and then. If you figure everything out completely, the world becomes a boring place.

However, he had to confess that a certain someone presented a puzzle so full of unknowns that the pleasant feeling of freshness was slowly being replaced by a grating sensation of irritability.

Irritable, audacious, insolent little minx.

Harry Potter was in many ways the exact opposite of him. While the boy obviously had no problem with working out elaborate attacks, he did not plan. Sure he _did_ analyse the situation, calculating the actions of everyone involved, but he seemed oblivious to the consequences his actions would have.

At first, this blindness had puzzled Tom. Considering the otherwise exceptional intelligence the boy showed, it seemed strange he should have so little self-awareness.

But after a while, he began to glimpse the truth of Harry's behaviour. The boy wasn't crude, he simply didn't _know_. He had grown up in a world with absolutely no rules, no punishments and no order. Everyone else around him had grown up with rules and certain sets of behaviour. When everything crumbled down, the chaos was a living hell to them.

It was why the concept of groups and lords fit so easily into this new world. The people needed rules, needed someone to guide them, needed to feel their boundaries. They were desperate to follow, or rule. For even lords could not simply behave like they wanted. There were rules too, protocols that needed to be respected. It was the very definition of civilisation.

Even Tom himself liked those rules. They were the guidelines for his play. They allowed him to manipulate and predict the actions of the others.

But there was no way to predict Harry Potter for one simple reason: he did not feel those boundaries. He had absolutely no concept of them.

It was as if everyone else lived inside a drawn circle and Harry was the only one that couldn't see the lines. If there had ever been a person who could truly think outside the box, it was Harry. He didn't see the box.

But there was something strangely hesitant about the boy's behaviour. As if he knew there were lines and was afraid to cross them, but he couldn't see them so he didn't know where it was safe for him to step.

Tom had been obsessed to kill him once, now he wanted nothing more than to unleash the boy. Harry had the potential to best even him and Tom knew it. He had seen a fraction of it when the brat had all but tortured him at the inn. He had come a bit out of his shell then, determined and angry. It had caught Tom completely off guard and stunned him till this day.

And there was his little genius, moving with the music but without any concept of dancing. Under the watching eyes of the stiff guests, it was the equivalent of crying out 'I don't give a fuck'.

Voldemort revelled in it.

To say that his intentions were improper was an understatement. And the brat didn't even have the courtesy to realise it.

At first he had thought the boy was only a bit skittish, reflexively shying away due to his harsh upbringing.

But no, the boy was _clueless_. And Tom was quite determined to change that fact. The role of the blushing maiden did not suit his little genius. Tom had had his fun with Harry's innocent reactions. Now, he wanted to _play._

With Harry's natural tendency to defy anything and anyone, Tom just knew it would entertain him for many days to come.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The blades are obviously inspired by star wars' lightsabers and of course I won't take any credit for them...Though I will give them a little spin on their own as you will see later on :)


	19. Chapter 19

By the time Bellatrix finally released him, Harry was out of breath and dizzy from all the spinning.

Other guests had started dancing and the previously empty dance space was crowded now.

Harry saw Riddle standing alone in the entrance to the main hall, watching him as intently as always. His stare seemed to pull at Harry and repel him at the same time. He just couldn't decide which motion was stronger.

He somehow managed to make his way back to one of the food tables and began searching for something to drink that didn't reek of alcohol.

"Do you want an apple?" asked a soft voice from the other side of the table.

Harry looked up and saw lady Luna smiling at him, holding an apple in each of her hands.

"No thanks, they are mischievous tonight," he replied seriously.

Luna laughed excited. "You remembered!"

"But of course milady," smiled Harry.

Luna nodded graciously. "It's good to remember things. Do you remember the day you were born?"

Harry frowned confused. "No..?"

"That's a pity. You're missing out on something then. How should one live if one doesn't remember how life began?" Luna looked sadly at the apples in her hands.

"Err…Does _anyone_ remember the day they were born?"

"Of course not silly. That's impossible!" laughed Luna.

Harry couldn't help but feel that she was toying with him. Then again, Luna seemed as genuine as the last time he spoke to her. He decided to just let it slip.

"What's wrong with the apples?"

"They mark people," she answered seriously. "Randomly. Clever if you think about it. Terrible if you think for too long."

"Um… _mark_ people?"

"Oh it's only the red ones. At least I think it is. There are seven you see…There were seven last time." The last sentence was spoken quietly and Harry wasn't quite sure if he heard her correctly.

He looked at the huge bowl of apples on the table. True enough, there seemed to be almost no red apples, only green and slightly yellow ones. Curiously he glanced at the other food tables and saw that there were no apples at all.

"Why seven?" he asked Luna warily. He probably shouldn't take her too seriously, but something about it felt awfully off.

Luna looked up at him. There was something undeniably clever in her wide eyes. "When you find the answer to that, please tell me immediately."

"Err…sure."

"Is it okay for you to just ignore him?"

"Huh?" Harry turned to see what she was looking at. Riddle still stood at the entrance of the hall, still watching him.

"Now that's just creepy," he murmured to himself.

"I think he wants to talk to you."

"Probably," affirmed Harry and turned back to face her.

"Ah," Luna smiled, still looking over Harry's shoulders.

"What?" asked Harry, refusing to turn around again.

"He's coming over," giggled Luna delighted and hastily handed the two apples she was holding over to Harry.

Before Harry could react in any way, she had winked at him and disappeared back into the crowd.

"Having fun?" came Riddle's voice from directly behind him.

Harry wasn't sure whether the question was directed at his talk with Luna or his earlier dancing. He decided it would be best not to mention his weird dancing with Bella ever again, so he opted for the first choice.

"She's nice."

Riddle gave the two apples in his hands a pointed look.

"Err, don't ask," Harry said and put the apples back on the table.

"So, do you finally have some free time for your lord?" mocked Riddle.

Harry did not. He needed to find Aberforth or Moody, find out what happened and how to not get himself killed. But of course, Riddle's question wasn't a question at all.

"I'm all yours," he sighed sarcastically.

Riddle quirked an eyebrow. "I hope the day will come soon when you realize just how much that is true."

Harry sighed again. "Could we stop with this hinting game of yours for today? Frankly it just confuses the shit out of me."

"My, such crude language _Harry_ ," smirked Riddle.

Harry glared at him. He had expected that his statement would anger Riddle or at least displease him. Instead it only seemed to amuse him further.

Riddle leaned gracefully forward and brought their faces on the same level. "No more hints you say?" he almost whispered.

Harry frowned at his sudden change in behaviour. "Um…no..?"

They stared at each other for an uncomfortable minute before Riddle suddenly grabbed Harry's wrist and turned abruptly.

"Ouch! What are you doing Riddle?" hissed Harry as he got forcefully pulled away.

He didn't get an answer, not even a snide one, which Harry found slightly disconcerting.

Riddle pulled him through the crowded main hall and then up the stairs that led to the balcony where Harry had been talking to Aberforth and Moody. When he had been there at the beginning of the night, a torch had illuminated the balcony. Now it had burnt down, and the only source of light was the door to the second floor hallway. Otherwise the spacious balcony was pitch black.

Harry tried to yank his wrist free from Riddle's grip, but the lord was much stronger than him.

"What is it?!" he hissed again. He could already feel his hand go numb from the missing blood flow.

Riddle just stood in front of him, his face hard to make out in the darkness. But Harry could swear he saw his red eyes glint.

"Allow me one last hint," answered Riddle finally, while he shoved Harry into the wall.

"Wha-…"

Riddle's lips closed over his before Harry had any chance to understand what was happening.

He knew what they were doing…technically. He also knew he was supposed to feel something else than naked panic. But really, all Harry could think of at that moment was that Riddle was effectively preventing him from breathing.

So he did what any other sane person would do. He bended one leg and _kicked_. Hard.

"What the actual fuck Riddle?! What do you think you're doing?" he yelled confused and breathless.

Riddle was standing two steps away and hunched over with a hand pressed to the side where Harry had kicked him.

"Testing a theory," he growled.

"Testing a _theory_?" echoed Harry stupidly, "What, like a new punishment?"

"Punishment?" Riddle tsked and straightened.

"Woah, stay where you are!" protested Harry meekly when Riddle advanced again.

"Why?" Riddle asked, closing in completely on Harry.

"W-Why? What do you-…" Harry's breath hitched when Riddle stepped even closer, one leg between his, their bodies brushing just so.

His heartbeat sped up to an unhealthy pace and panic spread once again through him as his body tensed up. Worst of all, his mind was completely blank.

"Relax," chuckled Riddle as he lay a hand almost gently on Harry's hair. Then their lips were touching again and a torrent of unaccustomed feelings washed through his body. "Breathe, fool."

Harry sucked in air greedily. He felt weak and feverish and he knew it was Riddle's fault, but for the life of him he couldn't push him away. His head was spinning and he was certain that he would collapse any second.

"Do you understand now? Or shall I give you another hint?" Riddle asked politely but his smirk betrayed him.

"I understand you are the devil," countered Harry, but it didn't come out half as bitingly as he would have liked. He was surprised that he could speak at all.

Riddle's smirk only grew. "True, but unrelated to current circumstances."

Riddle leaned in slightly more, so that his leg was pushing up more persistently against Harry. And to Harry's utter horror, he realised that he was half hard.

Oh.

Oh, this was _bad._

"My, my. You are quivering _Harry_ ," whispered Riddle into his ear.

The night's chilly breeze was unusual cool on his flushed cheeks. A thought began to form in his empty brain; he needed to get away from Riddle before…before what?

"Well, I believe even you must have understood by now. To be honest I am all out of _hints_ , just like you wanted. The only thing that remains involves a bed and a certain lack of clothing."

Harry was forcing himself to take deep breaths instead of shallow pants. He tried to form a coherent sentence in his mind, but he had to content himself with single words.

"Let…go…" he pressed out through gritted teeth.

Riddle mockingly held out his hands before Harry's face. "Why, I'm not holding you anywhere _Harry._ "

He glared at him. "Leg."

"Are you sure?" Riddle playfully wiggled his leg a bit. The friction caused Harry's breath to hitch again. "So much pent-up energy cannot possibly be healthy."

Harry continued to glare at him, not trusting his voice enough to speak. Riddle arched an eyebrow before apparently deciding to comply.

"Very well." He took a measured step away. "Now what?"

"Now…I run," stated Harry flatly, turned and fled from the balcony. He didn't need to look back to know that the smug bastard was smirking again.

This was bad.

No, this was the worst.

This was…He wasn't sure what this was. Unexpected? No, actually it wasn't…was it?

Harry groaned frustrated while he slowed down at the end of the stairs. His brain assaulted him with memories of his talks with Riddle, his knowing smirk, his strange remarks. No way, that just couldn't be true, this was-

"This is hell," he cried, desperately raking through his hair.

"Ah, the agonies of the young."

Harry blinked startled and saw Snape leaning in a corner of the empty entrance hall. Every other guest seemed to enjoy the music in the main hall.

Snape stepped nonchalantly from the shadows, as if his behaviour was completely normal. "I didn't take you for the dramatic kind Mr Potter."

"Dramatic?! No, I just had a-a…something with our dear lord that's all," huffed Harry while he tried to compose himself.

"Aah," made Snape knowingly, which for some reason irritated Harry immensely. "Took you long enough."

"Excuse me?" he stared at Snape incredulously.

"Come now Potter, everyone who has been in the same room as you two could tell."

"Tell what?!" he hissed and took some more steps in Snape's direction.

"The attraction between you is literally palpable. Actually, I think you might be the only person still oblivious to it."

"Oh you've got to be kidding me," groaned Harry. This evening was definitely cursed. He couldn't stay here any longer.

"Where are you going?" Snape asked as he began to walk towards the huge entrance door.

"Back to the train." He had thinking to do.

"And let me explain to lord Voldemort that you ran off? I don't think so."

Harry waved at him dismissively over the shoulder. "He let me run."

Snape's eyes widened uncharacteristically. "He _let_ you go? How...interesting."

Harry didn't listen anymore. He slipped out of the mansion into the cool night and began walking. His mind was reeling and he could feel a headache approaching. His hands began to shake slightly, and it wasn't due to the cold. He knew what those signs meant.

He just hoped he would make it back to the train before he collapsed.

.

* * *

.

When Harry woke up on his couch, with no recollection how he got there and the sun was setting instead of rising, he wasn't surprised.

His eyes were open and his head clear. And he was starving.

"Oh shit!" He cursed violently as he sat up and saw the state Riddle's personal coach was in. Papers full of notes lay scattered on the floor and even over Harry. Some books had been removed from their shelf, their pages torn out and overwritten with notes.

Harry hid his face in his hands. Riddle would kill him.

Riddle.

Fuck.

Somebody hammered on the door that led to the storage coach.

"Are you awake yet?" came Draco's muffled voice through the door.

Harry took a last look at the mess around him, sighed and went over to the door. It was locked from the inside. A small smile crept onto his face. Had he really just locked Riddle out of his own room?

He opened the door and was met with a surprised Draco. "Hi."

"Hi?!" screeched Draco, "You slept for almost two days! And you missed last evening. Bellatrix was upset because she insisted you were her dance partner. And lord Voldemort was furious because there were strange sounds coming from behind the door but it was locked. He ordered us to take down the door but Severus managed to talk him out of it."

Harry gaped at him. "How did he do that?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't know. Something about sleepwalking and brain damage. No one really got it except lord Voldemort."

Sleepwalking? Close enough.

His stomach grumbled furiously. "Draco do we have any food here?"

Draco pointed behind him. There was some bread, water and fruits piled onto a small space in one of the shelves. "Severus told me to bring it to you as soon as you've woken up."

Harry immediately began to dig in while Draco watched him with wide eyes, most likely fascinated with his atrocious eating manners.

"Where is everyone?" Harry asked between two gulps.

"They already left for the ball. You're supposed to follow them as soon as possible lord Voldemort said."

"I bet he did," grumbled Harry darkly. That bastard had made him black out again. And this time it wasn't even related to any inventions or plans. Only to… _that._

A part of him never wanted to see the smug bastard again. Another part suddenly knew exactly how much he _did_ want to see him. Shit.

Harry forcefully pushed his thoughts about Riddle away. He still needed to find Aberforth or Moody, which meant he had to go anyways. Harry wasn't sure how many evenings were left of the ball and he couldn't risk missing that opportunity. He had already missed one evening.

He left their camp as soon as he finished eating and made his way back to the mansion. By the time he arrived, the sun had already set and the ball was in full swing.

Luckily, this also meant that the entrance hall was nearly empty, though not as empty as it had been when he had left two days ago. This was the third evening after all. The guests most likely had lost some of their interest for music and dancing.

He considered if he should start searching in the smaller room where he first met Aberforth or go up to the balcony where they last talked.

However, the balcony also brought other memories to his mind. Memories that made him blush viciously. Of all the people he could have fancied, why the hell did it have to be Riddle?

Apparently his most recent blackout had only figured out the answer to all the signs and emotions his body had given him whenever he was near the man. This was probably good, because there was no way he would be able to answer why he was attracted to Riddle, and most certainly not why Riddle should be attracted to _him._ If he had concentrated on those questions…well, he'd be dead by now.

Sexual attraction. Just brilliant. And the bastard had teased him for weeks without him knowing it. Harry felt like he could see clearly for the first time. No wonder Riddle wasn't able to stop smirking. Now he just had to figure out how to stop blushing every time he thought about that smirk.

Harry suddenly realised that the main hall was strangely quiet. The music must have stopped somewhen during his musings. But the music often stopped when the musicians changed the melody, what was strange was that there was no chatter either.

After a moment, soft sounds came from the main hall, obviously from one single instruments. Curious, Harry crossed the entrance hall and peeked into the main hall.

No one was dancing, everyone stood silently, listening to the one man who sat on the musicians podium and whose fingers moved fluently over the keys, drawing the sweetest sounds from the piano.

The one man who was conveniently named Tom Riddle.

Harry slammed his head into the door frame, which earned him some amused looks from the guests who stood near him.

Seriously, was there anything that man couldn't do?

Riddle's play became faster, his fingers only a blur over the keys, his face concentrated and yet still relaxed.

Harry watched him transfixed like everyone else in the hall. His play lacked the full sound several instruments made together, but he created such a clear, tantalizing complexity that caused the listeners to hold their breaths.

At one point Riddle looked up and met his eyes. His gaze sent a jolt through Harry's body which did no longer surprise him, but still felt foreign.

A lazy smirk formed on Riddle's lips, as if he knew exactly what effect he had on Harry. His red eyes taunted him, daring him to do things he had never even thought of before.

While his heart pounded madly in his chest and his body got flooded with adrenaline, Harry left the main hall.

He had read about that tender feeling called love but this was clearly something else entirely. Harry wanted nothing more than go back to London and talk to his friends. They would have known what to do. Though it would have been one hell of an awkward conversation.

' _Everyone who has been in the same room as you two could tell.'_ Wait, how early had this mess started? _'You look very…_ lively _to me, young man.'_ That son of a-

Harry snapped out of his thoughts when he suddenly realised he was in a room he didn't recognise.

It was dimly lit but Harry could still see enough to make out its purpose. It was a library. He had never seen a real library, since books had been a reliable source of firewood during the chaos. A lot of books had survived of course, but they were scattered and Harry had never seen more than a few shelves full of books in one room.

This room was literally full of them. The space between the individual shelves was just enough for one person, thus the room seemed rather cramped but very neatly organised. The only light came from a huge fireplace, which seemed rather dangerous to Harry.

He let a finger glide over the books on the nearest shelf, just enjoying the mere feeling of the touch. He could swear he smelled the knowledge hidden in those books.

Something near the fireplace rattled and Harry startled.

A little man dressed in truly strange and colourful clothes including a weird hat, rummaged around in the pile with firewood next to the fireplace.

As if feeling Harry's stare, the man turned around briskly and looked at him suspiciously.

"Err…Sorry, I think I'm lost," explained Harry.

"Humph. Shouldn't be here. Go dance with the others," grumbled the small man.

Harry stood there perplexed at the hostile treatment and watched with growing discomfort as the man took a burning log out of the fire and approached the nearest book shelf.

When it was clear the man actually intended to touch the shelf with it, Harry quickly stepped forward and snatched the log out of the man's hand.

"Give it back, brat!"

"Are you crazy? You'll set the whole building on fire!" And all those precious books with it.

The man grinned maliciously. "That's the plan you dimwit. Burn! Everything has to burn!" He cackled madly.

Harry frowned confused. This man was even madder than Bellatrix.

"You'll kill hundreds of people," he tried to reason.

The man only shrugged. "Most will flee when they see the smoke. Only some will burn. But more than seven." He suddenly grabbed Harry's shoulders, staring at him with wide blazing eyes. "It _has_ to be more than seven! Seven is not enough anymore!"

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"The lords have to die! Burn! I want to kill them too!" the small man yelled at Harry's face.

"Uh-huh," was his intelligent response. He held the log a bit higher so the small man wouldn't be able to suddenly grab it.

"Peeves!"

"Where are-"

"-you?"

Harry slightly turned towards the new voices, only reluctantly letting the small man out of his sight.

Two young men stood at the entrance of the library. They were a handful of years older than Harry but still unmistakably lost generations. Harry probably would have pondered on that fact a little longer, considering that he had only met one other lost generation apart from himself, but there was something even more puzzling about the men.

They were identical. From the red hair down to their black robes, there was no way to tell them apart. Harry had heard of twins, but never actually met a pair. He found the experience to be slightly disturbing.

"Sorry about that-"

"-our brother isn't quite-"

"-right in his head you see."

Harry scoffed at that. There was no way in hell the little man was their brother.

When Harry didn't answer the twins shifted their attention to the man they had called Peeves.

"We told you-"

"-to stay at home."

Peeves shook his head furiously. "No! You are doing it wrong again!""

"We are doing it our way-"

"-or not at all."

The twins approached and gently peeled Peeves' hands from Harry. They smiled at him. "We hope he didn't hurt you in any way..?"

Harry was relieved that only one of them spoke at a time. Their completely identical faces were disturbing enough.

"He tried to burn down this place," he answered them, his suspicion clear in his voice.

The things Peeves had said nagged at Harry. Seven is not enough? Doing it their way? Harry wondered why it was always him who seemed to be right in the middle of every mess.

"Ah. Well if it's only that..." laughed one of them nonchalantly.

"We won't let that happen of course," the other twin grinned sheepishly.

"We'll bring him home immediately," added his brother.

Something urged Harry to not let them go. That it was important they stayed. But what could he possibly say? Taking the man home sounded like the safest plan after all, and if Harry didn't want to call them liars in their faces, there was nothing he could do.

So he watched them go with a growing sense of trepidation. Then he went over to the fireplace and put the fire out.

He left the library and was looking around the hallway, trying to figure out where he was, when Aberforth and Moody walked around the corner.

"Harry! Thank god." Aberforth seemed relieved to see him. "We searched for you everywhere. Where were you yesterday? We thought you might have disappeared."

"Sorry, I couldn't make it yesterday."

"You should have told us," grunted Moody, "People keep disappearing after the first night."

Harry looked at them questioningly. "What do you mean 'keep disappearing'?"

"Don't know that either eh?" snorted Moody.

Harry huffed annoyed. There were indeed many things he didn't seem to know.

"Those balls are held once every few months. Only lords who are somehow important get invited. Don't ask me who decides, but it has been like that for the last three balls at least," started Aberforth.

"And after the first evening, people always end up missing," continued Moody. "Last time they reappeared. Dead."

"They were killed?" asked Harry incredulously. "How come no one told me about that?"

Moody shrugged. "Your group got invited for the first time. And the other lords don't like to talk about it. The dead were all lords you see. No one really cared before, but since they found the bodies last time, everyone is on guard."

His sense of trepidation grew. "How many were there? How many dead lords?"

They exchanged a look. A look that was a bit too knowing for Harry's liking.

Harry instinctively took a step back. "Did you kill them?"

"Gods no!" cried Aberforth shocked. "I just told you we were concerned that you disappeared."

"But you know who it is," insisted Harry, "'There's a pair of fine men wandering about doing the right thing.' That's what you told me."

They exchanged another look.

"We are searching for them," Moody said finally, "We aren't certain, but we might know them."

' _The lords have to die! Seven is not enough anymore!'_ ' _We will do it our way.'_ ' _They mark people. There are seven you see…There were seven last time.'_

Harry felt sick. "There were seven bodies, weren't there?"

Luna had known. She had been an important lady for some time now, she must have been present at the previous balls. She even had a theory about how they did it. Were the red apples poisoned? But what kind of poison would kill them without making them sick first? Seven sick men would draw a lot of attention.

Moody's and Aberforth's glance grew suspicious. "How could you possibly know that?"

"Because I just met the men you're looking for."

"What did they look like?" asked Moody eagerly, "Boy, this is important, did you see their faces?"

Harry took another wary step back. "You are both groupless. You obviously don't like lords. You were talking about some sort of resistance-…"

"No! Harry, you've got it all wrong. We have nothing to do with the killings. We've never even met them. We just pieced some rumours together and…Harry please, can you describe them?" urged Aberforth.

Harry slowly shook his head. "I'm not doing anything until you've told me what you know of my past. I'll decide whether I should trust you after you explained some things to me. You can start with that family you gave me to."

"You don't understand Harry," Aberforth sighed sadly, "We think they _are_ the family I gave you to."

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first posted this story, there was some confusion about the cause of Harry's recent blackout. Allow me to spell it out for you, because Harry's behaviour later on might be strange otherwise: It was caused by Riddle's unexpected (for Harry) kiss. It forced Harry to analyze how he responds to him and made him realize the true nature of Riddle's hints. Bottom line is: He had to acknowledge his attraction towards Riddle. Or as a reviewer stated so merrily: Harry's brain couldn't handle Riddle's perversion xD. Anyways, just know that Harry is now fully aware of the sexual tension between them.


	20. Chapter 20

"That's ridiculous," stated Harry resolutely, "The men I saw were only a few years older than me. They can't be the ones you gave me to."

He crossed his arms in front of him, still maintaining a safe distance from the two older men. While he found himself believing them that they had nothing to do with the killings, he was certain that they were withholding crucial information. Their reluctance to tell him anything concrete was suspicious and incredibly annoying.

Aberforth glanced over his shoulder to make sure that the corridor they were in was still empty. "We believe they are _a part_ of the family I gave you to. Look Harry, we don't need to know much, just…Were they red-haired? Brothers?"

Harry kept his face stubbornly blank.

Moody's face darkened at his unwillingness to talk, but Aberforth shut him up with a stern look. Suddenly, the two remained Harry of Remus and Sirius. His heart clenched a little.

"Fine," resigned Aberforth, "I gave you to a pair called Arthur and Molly Weasley. When I last saw them they had six sons, the youngest barely a year old, and Molly was pregnant for a seventh time, a girl if I remember correctly. I haven't seen any of them since they disappeared with you on that night."

Harry held his breath, shocked with the new knowledge. "You gave me to a family with _six_ children and a pregnant women? No wonder they had to abandon me, there's no way they could have made it through-…"

"I told you they would have _never_ abandoned you," interrupted Aberforth just as fiercely as last time, "Something must have gone wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong."

Harry couldn't help but snort. "Yeah. Almost a decade of anarchy, no food or medicine, that's what went wrong."

"He does have a point Aberforth, the Weasley's were good people but…" Moody shrugged helpless.

"They had many children yes, not exactly optimal at that time, but their older sons were already old enough to take care of themselves. Besides, they always had money problems, they weren't used to a comfortable life in the first place. No, if anyone would have stayed strong during harsh times it would have been the Weasley's."

Harry rubbed his temples, feeling another headache growing. "Look, I'm very grateful for what you - what they - did for me. I know I would be dead if no one had cared for me in my first few years, and they probably managed to keep me alive for two or three years, but… I mean, things were _bad._ Compared to then we practically live in paradise today. "

"I've been trying to find them since then, but they vanished completely. I thought they covered their tracks so well because they wanted to protect you, but since you got separated from them years ago…I don't understand why they never tried to contact us."

"Ah yes, protect me. When will you finally tell me why it is necessary to protect me in the first place?"

Aberforth held up his hands beseechingly. "We will try I promise. But can you at least describe the men you saw? I've been friends with the Weasley's for a very long time. If I could just know that they are still alive…"

Harry sighed defeated. "I saw twins. Red-haired. Slightly older than me."

Aberforth let out a relieved breath.

"The twins?" echoed Moody, " _Just_ the twins?"

"Well, there was this strange little man with them. He tried to burn down the whole building I might add. And while it didn't seem as if that was the twins plan, they weren't exactly shocked either."

The frowns on the two men confirmed Harry's suspicion that Peeves wasn't their brother.

"So, on to the fun part. What's the deal with that guild and why do they want me dead?"

.

* * *

.

Severus pulled his robes tighter to his body when a particular cold breeze disturbed the grass in front of him. The single ant he had watched since he had bowed down stumbled when the air hit its tiny body and disappeared quickly under a leaf, away from Severus' gaze.

Beside him, he could feel Lucius shudder. His robes were made out of even lighter material than Snape's. Still, neither of them thought about complaining while listening to their lord's energetic pacing.

They stood outside behind a corner of the mansion. While not really hidden, the dark night and the cold air kept the other guests inside.

"Seven?" repeated Voldemort, never stopping in his pacing.

While Severus knew it was a rhetorical question, Lucius took it as a cue to continue his report.

"Yes my lord. But it doesn't make sense. All the men that disappeared are mere followers. If one was to believe the whispered rumours, only lords have died the last time. I believe it is possible that the disappearance of certain guests and the death of several lords aren't necessarily connected."

Voldemort stopped and remained silent for a few minutes. Then he began pacing again.

"What about you Severus?"

Snape had to stop himself from flinching. "I can only add that all the followers belonged to different groups my lord."

"And?"

"It strikes me as an odd coincidence my lord."

"I'm not searching for odd coincidences Severus, I'm in need of facts," sneered Voldemort.

"Forgive me my lord, but the rumours don't add up. Everyone believes the dead lords reappeared, but no one seems to remember that several lords went missing a few evenings before. While the deaths have been kept relatively secret, it should have been impossible not to notice seven missing lords."

"And the connections between the dead lords?" The question was directed at both of them and Severus was relieved when Lucius answered first.

"None my lord. The missing followers also belonged to groups that are neither allied nor at war with each other."

"Has there been any cases of victims reappearing alive?"

"There are always those who drink above their thirst my lord. They might wander off and reappear a few evenings later with wild stories, but nothing indicates kidnapping."

Lord Voldemort fell silent again. The minutes became longer as the cold crept into Severus' bones. He wondered if he would still be able to move once the lord dismissed them. Even so, he knew better than to shift his position.

While Voldemort had once again called for him, Severus was certain the lord was still displeased with him. Although Voldemort had controlled his anger about the incident with Dumbledore, Severus had crossed him again two days ago.

He was far from convinced that Harry's blackouts worked similar like sleep-walking, but there appeared to be parallels. And if Potter's flustered and confused state had been any indication, having Voldemort walk into his room would not have helped.

The boy had obviously been quite out of his mind that night. If the distinct tearing and scratching sounds weren't disturbing enough, the mumbling and screams certainly were. Even worse had been the total silence yesterday. For all Severus knew, Harry could have been dead by then.

Voldemort's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Keep searching for connections between the groups. And find out to which lord the missing followers belong. You may leave."

Both Severus and Lucius bowed notably stiffer than usual and turned to leave.

"Severus."

He froze in mid turn and looked back. "My lord?"

"If anyone asks, tell them I am temporarily unavailable."

"How long will you be gone my lord?" asked Severus carefully.

Voldemort eyed the huge mansion pensively. "That depends on how far he has run off this time."

.

* * *

.

"My brother always liked to see himself as a tragic hero," Aberforth began quietly.

The three had moved to the library for more privacy and had found some chairs to sit on. Harry had the strong urge to stand up and pace, but he didn't want to risk distracting Aberforth.

"He loved to protect people. This would have been a commendable character trait but he always did it with such…" Aberforth trailed off, obviously searching for the right words. "Let's put it like that; He always made sure everyone knew how much he had to suffer for them. I guess he liked the reverence that brought him this."

Harry silently agreed to this description. Dumbledore had always made sure that the smaller groups knew how lucky they were he still allowed them in his town. And how much easier it would have been for him to just get rid of them.

"And then the world began slowly to crumble apart. Albus had this vision that society needed to be rebuilt. Peacefully, he assured me. Once the world became aware that their system just wasn't working anymore, they would willingly choose another route. It seemed…possible." Aberforth shrugged guiltily.

Moody nodded in agreement. "You need to understand Harry, it was a strange time to live in back then. We all knew something was coming. We all knew our world would change drastically. But no one did anything. We just went about our business as usual, ignoring the unpleasant facts."

A small realization dawned on Harry. "And when men like Albus started talking about this new order, the people started to listen."

"Some people did," continued Aberforth, "People like my brother. People who saw themselves as the good guys, who were convinced everything they did would eventually lead to peace. People who wanted to lead. But also a lot of people who sought guidance during these dark days."

"At the beginning it seemed like a reasonable idea. Let the old world fall and build a new one together. Make our own rules, live free, go back to a more self-sustaining society. But then it seemed as if the change would never come. Researchers made ground-breaking discoveries. People were more inclined to help complete strangers. Armies refused to go to war with other countries. Instead of a shattered society, the world actually became _better_."

Harry frowned. "I only ever heard how things got worse and worse until everything simply collapsed."

Moody waved dismissively. "Shortly before the chaos yes, but we all knew the world was doomed years before that. It was clear there would only be two choices for humanity: unite like never before or break completely. And at one point, it seemed possible we would pull through together."

Harry recalled what Dumbledore had told him in the basement of phoenix' headquarters. "And thus the guild decided to plunge the world into chaos first. While millions died, the rest became disoriented. Vulnerable to manipulations."

"They still are," grunted Moody, "Don't you see? This whole group-based society is a farce. The renovation guild didn't just initiate the chaos, they controlled it. Gave it the right direction so the lords could easily take over. Lords _they_ had selected, in the places _they_ had chosen."

"But there are lords that don't belong to the guild," interjected Harry, "There are no requirements to become a lord, you just need a group strong enough to hold your territory and gain allies."

"Of course there are, but imagine if you had a whole guild full of lords already covering your back. It is almost impossible to form a strong group from scratch today. While everyone was busy trying to survive, they emerged prepared from the chaos. Formed the first groups, occupied the best places."

Harry's head was spinning from the implications. "You're telling me the majority of the powerful lords all belong to the guild which organized the chaos in the first place and now what, dominate the world together? This whole new system is a single conspiracy?"

"Humans have been reduced to flocks of sheep that can be herded around as the guild pleases. It might seem like we chose our own lords and make our own rules, but the truth is that we've been living under the oppressive dictatorship of the people that planned this new world all along. "

Harry leaned back baffled. He had already known the guild had wanted the chaos. But he never would have thought that they had planned the whole society in such a coordinated way. Without anyone ever knowing, they had ruled over the people from the shadows.

"So…You were trying to hinder the guild and now you want to overthrow their rule?"

Aberforth and Moody glanced at each other. "We were part of the guild, actually," confessed Aberforth.

"Huh? But the resistance-…"

"Is primarily made out of the people who once belonged to the guild," explained Moody, "and who started to realize their vision of a new world was a lie."

"We were all in it together, Albus, our sister and I. The Weasley's as well and of course Alastor. All friends of our family. Our sister…Ariana, she… was the first one to doubt the guild's ideals. She started to ask questions, saw the unfortunate coincidences of the guild's actions, tried to convince members what they were doing was wrong. We found her body at the foot of her apartment building. Suicide, Albus said." Aberforth spat on the ground.

"Are you familiar with the jump-push-fall concept?"

Harry numbly shook his head.

"Bodies arrive differently and at distinct distances from the buildings depending on whether they jumped, were pushed, or fell in an accident. The police wasn't working anymore at that time but if you had a keen eye…She didn't jump. Didn't fell either."

Harry's mouth was painfully dry. "They killed her because she asked questions?"

"My brother was pretty high in the guild's hierarchy. I can't prove that he did it himself, but I know he had to consent to it. And that woke many of us up. If the guild was willing to kill off family members… Well, it raised questions about their real intentions."

He looked up at Harry. "You asked me why I wanted my brother dead. My brother died years ago. The man that was capable of murdering Ariana is not the brother I grew up with."

They fell silent for a while. Even though Harry was burning with questions, he didn't quite know how to proceed after this.

"Dumbl-…I mean, your brother…What do you mean he was high in their hierarchy?"

"Albus' childhood friend is the founder of the guild. He must have talked with my brother about his ideas and, well, they seemed to agree. Because of their connection, Albus was one of the earliest members of the guild. Almost a founder you could say. One of the people who planned everything." Aberforth voice was bitter.

"So this friend…He's like the usurper now?" _Of the whole fucking world?_

"His name is Gellert Grindelwald. From what we know he is a lord, but with a surprising small territory. We don't know how their inner politics work anymore. Since we split from the guild it's almost impossible to get information about them. They are paranoid about their existence. It wouldn't bode well on the people to realize they are led by the same individuals that are responsible for the chaos. We call ourselves the resistance, but…Truth is Harry, we're just a bunch of people who know the real story. And they would do anything to eliminate us."

Harry sprang up, unable to sit still any longer.

"Okay. Renovation guild - bad guys, resistance - good guys. Gotcha. My mother was a threat because she might have prevented their planned chaos after all. Understood. But what on earth do they have against _me_?"

Moody chortled mildly. "It's nothing personal."

"You think?!" exclaimed Harry.

"Lily Potter was the final hope Harry, the last person who could have made a difference. The guild tried everything to destroy her and the resistance everything to protect her. The thing is, she never knew any of this."

Harry shook his head pensively. "She did, kind of. Snape told me they kept her lab completely hidden after the guild attacked her first one."

"Severus Snape? The man that lived with Albus?" asked Moody alarmed.

"Oh. Err, yes, but he isn't part of the guild."

"Harry, the reason why the guild is so successful is because they are excellent liars and deceivers," urged Aberforth.

"He doesn't belong to them, seriously."

"On what proof?" demanded Moody suspiciously.

Harry stopped in his pacing to look directly at Aberforth. "He killed Albus Dumbledore."

This left both men speechless, but Harry couldn't see any negative reactions on Aberforth face, so he guessed there really weren't any kind feelings left for his brother.

"He realised the guild was after Lily and he found out that Dumbledore was part of the guild…only too late," explained Harry, leaving out the part about Snape telling Dumbledore where the lab was. He had a feeling the resistance wouldn't take too kindly to these news.

"Anyways," he continued, "The last hope, I get it. So what, you guys had some kind of final battle that evening?"

"Yes, and we lost," confessed Aberforth bitterly. "The only thing where we succeeded is saving their son."

"Well, thanks, I guess," smiled Harry shyly.

"Like us, you pose a great threat to their secrecy. Under no circumstances can anyone know of their existence. I'm sure at first they just wanted you dead because you might remember what really happened. But then…You became something of a symbol for the resistance, a new hope so to speak," explained Moody.

Harry frowned. A symbol? He hadn't even done anything!

"The most powerful lords of the country want me dead because I'm some figure in your schema? Awesome," he remarked drily. If Dumbledore hadn't planned to hand him over to Voldemort, he would have been dead long ago.

"Well…There are rumours."

Harry smirked at Moody, remembering their first encounter. "Like demons wandering around?"

"No, like…A chosen one," clarified Aberforth.

Harry stared stupidly at him. "Chosen one?! Chosen to do what?"

"Overthrow the guild of course," laughed Moody humorless.

When he saw Harry's sour face he grinned weakly. "When the stories of your group's win spread through the country and your name popped up for the first time after two decades, the people in the resistance were ecstatic. Not only did you survive against all odds, some say you defeated Fudge with magic."

Harry snorted. "It's called science."

"It doesn't matter. Your reappearance gave the resistance hope and the guild isn't too pleased about that. The rumours…they say you know things. Things that will destroy the guild."

Harry held up his hands in shock. "I don't know anything!"

"We can see that. But both the resistance and the guild believes differently. They fear you because they _believe_ you know something they don't. Maybe something your mother left you, something you saw or heard or figured out."

"I'm telling you, I can't even remember my childhood!" _Because my brain is seriously messed up due to pills Dumbledore gave me._

Aberforth shrugged and began to count facts on his hand. "You know the truth, you're the son of Lily and you survived every of their attempts at killing you. You give hope to their enemies when there should be no hope left and you miraculously defeat stronger groups. And," he paused dramatically, "You killed one of their founders. By now, you've become a hidden celebrity."

"I didn't kill anybody!" protested Harry.

"Harry…The guild won that night they killed your parents. They thought with everything that happened and after the chaos, there would be no one left who can fight against them. But we still had something worth fighting for, because of _you_. As long as you are alive, this battle will continue. The guild knows that they haven't won completely if they let you live."

"Imagine our surprise when you popped up here, without protection, using your real name, having no clue what was going on, at a ball where at least half of the invited lords are bound to be involved with the guild." Moody looked at him darkly, as if Harry had deliberately put himself in danger.

Harry sighed and thought of all the things that had happened at the ball so far.

"They want Voldemort to defeat a lord called Bloody Baron. He-…"

"Fuck!" cursed Moody. "You can't go there."

"What? He's the only reason I'm still alive! They didn't manage to defeat him and now they think I can do it for them before they kill me."

"No! Harry, the Bloody Baron is part of the guild."

Harry froze. "What?! That doesn't make any sense!"

"Yes it does. The guild fakes battles quite often. They form alliances with lords that don't belong to the guild and after the fight the only survivors are the two lords of the guild, while both sides lost their allies like planned. That's how they get rid of powerful lords that don't belong to them without anyone ever noticing."

"So…it's a ploy to kill Voldemort? Not me?" asked Harry incredulously. He was stunned at how complex each of their actions were.

"Both. While they eliminate another lord that doesn't belong to them, it will also seem like you deliberately rushed off to your own death. If they murder you now, the resistance might get angrier than ever before, which could lead to complications. If you simply die while following your lord…" Aberforth trailed off meaningfully.

"Does that mean I'm safe until we challenge the Bloody Baron? Because they think I'll die there anyways?"

"Possible. I wouldn't count on it though. They always have a plan B."

Harry laughed drily. "They already are at plan X to get rid of me."

He sat back down, frustrated beyond belief. He now knew the name of the family that brought him up, but had no way to contact them. He saw that their whole society was a lie and the people who had all the power wanted him dead because they thought Harry was the reason the resistance still existed. In reality, Harry had never even been in touch with those people. If there had been a concrete reason why the guild felt so threatened by him, he might have been able to stay out of their way, but this… What to do when your own person was used as a beacon of hope?

"I'm sorry but I really don't know anything. I can't help you with your fight against the guild and I certainly don't have any magic. The only thing I have is the real story. Why don't you just tell everyone? Spread rumours. Even if you can't prove it, people might start to see that the powerful lords really are all connected."

"It's true that the people would react strongly if they found out they planned the chaos. But now…Most have accepted this new system. They gladly follow their lords. A revolution would be useless because they are already accustomed to this new world. What we need is someone who can unite us and take down the guild one by one."

Both Aberforth and Moody stared at him intently.

Harry's jaw dropped. "Who, me?! Are you out of your mind?!"

"The resistance would follow you, including a few lords. It might be too late to change the system, but we could at least take control of our lives. If we let the guild do as they please, we're nothing more than slaves they can command."

"Is that what the twins are doing? Taking down the lords one by one? Or well, seven by seven."

"We don't know. We weren't even sure it would be the Weasley's. Like I said I haven't heard of them since they took you. But…" Aberforth stopped, sounding hesitant.

"But what?" insisted Harry.

"The seven lords at the last ball? As far as we know only four of them belonged to the guild. Maybe five. At least two were innocent," confessed Moody.

"Then…They're really just targeting lords randomly?"

"It may even be that the twins don't know anything about the guild. If you got separated from the Weasley's, their own children might have been left alone just as well," reasoned Aberforth.

"But if they don't belong to the resistance... What reason would they have to kill lords? And do it so publicly nonetheless."

"We've been following their trail since we began to suspect it might be the Weasley's. We wanted to talk to them. Now that we know you didn't remain with them, we need to hear their story even more."

"And I still want to know what happened to me during my earlier years, but apart from that, count me out of it," stated Harry resolutely.

Aberforth looked shocked. "Count you out of it? Harry you couldn't be more in it if you tried!"

"I don't know what you expect me to do! I can't lead the country and take on the guild. No one has a big enough ego to even try su-…"

He broke off abruptly, realising how familiar the conversation had become. Aberforth and Moody just looked at him questioningly.

"Actually…" began Harry slowly, "I know someone whose goal is exactly that. I'm just not sure if we aren't better off living under the guild's rule."

"You know someone who is trying to unite all groups?" asked Aberforth dubiously.

"Yes he-…" Harry's throat constricted when his eyes fell on the library's entrance. "…Is coming over here right now."

Sure enough, no one else than Riddle lazily walked down the corridor that led to the library. When he saw who sat in it he stopped, undoubtedly taking in the dark room the three figures sat in.

Then he took a few more advancing steps. "It seems I always find you in the oddest of places _Harry_."

Riddle's eyes narrowed suspiciously at the three frozen men in front of him. "Pray tell, what are you doing here?"

Harry's insides clenched hotly. "Talking," he answered flatly.

"Ah…" Riddle let his gaze wander between Aberforth, Moody, the unlit fireplace and back to Harry. "About..?"

Harry squirmed under his stare. Damndamndamn him and his eyes and hands and lips and-…damn.

"Um…Books?"

Riddle's eyelid twitched and Harry vaguely remembered the mess in Riddle's coach.

"What, err…do, um…you want?" Harry struggled to remember proper grammar.

A slow smirk crept onto Riddle's lips. One of his more devilish variations. His eyes burned into Harry's mind and a single _'you'_ seemed to hang in the air, before Riddle gracefully extended a hand.

"A dance of course."

.

* * *


	21. Chapter 21

"A- a what?" Harry swallowed hard while he tried to look anywhere except Riddle's eyes.

"A dance," repeated Riddle smoothly, his amusement easily shining through.

It took all of Harry's willpower to not simply gape at him. Aberforth and Moody remained stiff and silent in their seats, watching them.

Harry's eyes flickered shortly to Riddle's, then hastily back to his still outstretched hand. He considered his options, trying to come up with a plausible excuse.

"You saw me with Bella, I can't dance. I'm fairly sure it wouldn't do you any good to be seen with me on the dance floor."

Riddle's smirk widened. "You just need someone who can lead properly." He tilted his head, watching Harry's frozen form. "You're not going to pass out again are you? It would be quite…inconvenient if that happens every time I come near you." His tone was sweet and caring, but Harry's face grew hot from the obvious taunt.

He was at a loss. It was clear that Riddle wouldn't leave before he got what he wanted. Going with him was inevitable, the problem was, Harry didn't know how he should behave anymore. His own ignorance had let him react to Riddle with confusion or nonchalance. Now though… His own self-consciousness drove him mad and made him increasingly flustered. Which of course, was exactly what amused Riddle the most. Bastard.

Harry abruptly stood up, ignoring the outstretched hand. If Riddle thought he could toy with him that easily, he was sadly mistaken. Riddle expected him to be flustered, clumsy and most likely in denial. All he had to be was the exact opposite. Or well, pretend to anyways.

He took a deep breath and strode past Riddle without a second glance. At the door he turned around and looked back expectantly.

Riddle gradually retracted the offered hand and cocked his head. "A plain escape?"

Harry glared at him. "The ballroom is this way. Do try to keep up Riddle."

With that, he spun around and began walking down the corridor. He tried to calm his racing heart and his panicked brain. All he had to do was…what? Act natural? Normal? What a load of bullshit. There was no normal with Riddle. The man was a bloody rollercoaster.

_So deliciously thrilling._

Harry mentally slapped himself. Okay, so maybe he shouldn't think about him at all. Yes, because ignoring Riddle was so easy, that should work brilliantly. Harry had to retain himself from slapping his cheeks for real. Stupid.

"Are we trying to be forceful now?" teased Riddle a few steps behind him.

Harry gritted his teeth. Don't react. Just don't react. Don't-

"I always knew you would be a rather pushy bo-…"

Harry whirled around and snarled at him. Only Riddle's fast reaction prevented them from a collision.

"Don't force me to make you _scream_ again," hissed Harry, a bit proud that he was trembling from genuine rage and nothing else.

Riddle's eyes became hooded. Before, Harry had taken this expression as threatening. Now however, he saw his eyes were actually hooded with pleasure. His own eyes widened slightly at the realisation.

Riddle slowly reached up to Harry's face, his hand curling around the back of his neck, pressing him closer. Something akin to sincere wonder spread over his face when Harry didn't struggle, blush, or break eye contact.

"My, so _firm_ today child. I take it your little episode was illuminating?"

"Very. Now get your hands off me, unless you want me to walk all the way backwards."

Riddle pulled his hand back deliberately slow, still eying Harry in slight amazement.

Harry coolly stepped back and began walking again.

"Soon child, I'll make it so you won't be able to walk in either direction," promised Riddle hoarsely.

Harry almost froze at the raw tone. He had already come to the conclusion that the attraction went both ways, but he had never considered that he may affect Riddle just as much as Riddle did him. Interesting. He stored the information for later while he pondered on Riddle's remarkable self-control - And almost tripped when he tried to imagine a flushed Riddle.

A smug chuckle followed him from behind.

"What?" he snapped, but didn't stop walking.

"You _are_ tense. No need to pretend child." The smugness was literally dripping from Riddle's words. So much for his plan to act confident.

"I'm 21 bastard."

"Ah, such crude language _Harry_ …. I keep wondering what went wrong, you started out so adorable."

"Yes, you've told me, you preferred me silent," remarked Harry brusquely.

"When you couldn't _talk_ ," corrected Riddle.

One of his arms sneaked around Harry's torso from behind, pulling him to a stop. Harry stubbornly stared straight ahead while Riddle's hand gripped his throat lightly, forcing his head to tilt up backwards.

"You did occasionally make such…delightful noises," purred Riddle.

"You are sick," grumbled Harry, trying not to think of how perfectly warm and solid Riddle's body was behind him, or how his cool hand felt on his exposed skin.

He still failed to suppress a shiver when Riddle's thumb began to stroke his throat.

"I'll have to check how those noises have changed since then."

Riddle pulled back his head even further and because Riddle was a good head taller than him, his face now appeared above him in his field of vision, only upside-down.

For a long moment they simply stood there, staring at each other silently. They were now near enough the main hall to hear the faint sounds of the ongoing music.

Then Harry began to writhe in Riddle's grip, trying to get out of the uncomfortable position. He quickly stopped, as his own movements put only further pressure on his neck.

Riddle's red eyes stared tauntingly down on him. Harry hissed at him in discomfort, earning another chuckle.

"What are you, a cat?"

"Still better than you."

Riddle quirked an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"You're a snake," specified Harry convinced.

"What gave you _that_ idea?"

"You're sly and slippery like that."

"You know Harry, snakes hiss too," mused Riddle.

Harry frowned. "So?"

"Who knows, you might be a snake yourself."

"Am not!" hissed Harry indignantly, then realized that he just hissed again and shut his mouth annoyed.

"Well, if you're really a cat," smirked Riddle, dropping his voice to a low whisper, "go ahead and _purr._ "

And he actually had the audacity to caress his throat, like he was petting an actual cat.

Harry snapped. He brought his arms up, determined to get out of Riddle's hold, even if it meant breaking his own neck. However, before he could really do something, Riddle released his throat and grabbed his right wrist instead, spinning him around gracefully as if they were already dancing.

"You owe me a dance," reminded Riddle.

"I don't own you anything."

"You already said yes."

Before Harry could tell him he had never verbally agreed to the dance, Riddle tightened his grip on Harry's wrist and pulled him towards the main hall. He would have protested more, if their recent closeness hadn't left him so out of breath. He really needed to work on that.

After walking through several unfamiliar corridors - how had he gotten to the library in the first place? - they finally arrived at the entrance hall. Quite a lot of people mingled there, since the music wasn't as loud here and thus conversations were easier to follow.

Riddle slowed down a bit, no doubt trying not to attract too much attention by pulling a reluctant Harry after him. Harry made another attempt at freeing his wrist, but Riddle's grip was iron.

"Behave yourself," mocked Riddle so only Harry could hear it. "Or I might consider getting you a leash."

"Leashes are for dogs," muttered Harry, "Besides, a snake can't hold anything."

"Oh you might be surprised, the big ones are strong enough to hold a person."

Harry glared at him suspiciously. "How would you know that?"

Riddle shrugged ominously and made his way through the crowded main hall.

At the edge of the cleared out dance space he stopped and smirked at Harry. "Ready?"

"Hell no! I told you I don't know how to dance!"

"You went with Bella." For a moment Harry could have sworn the lord actually _pouted._

"Yes well…Bellatrix is insane. Are you telling me you're insane? Not that I wouldn't have known that…I'd just like to hear you admit it."

"They say there's a fine line between genius and insanity. I've merely erased that line," quoted Riddle.

Harry gaped at him. "Huh?! That's not comforting at all!"

Riddle used his temporal stupor to drag him to the middle of the dance space. The only positive thought Harry was capable of was that at least this time they weren't the first to start dancing. The floor was already rather crowded with dancing guests.

Riddle shifted his grip so that he was no longer holding his wrist but his hand instead and stretched both of their arms. Then he looked at him expectantly, with his ever-present amused glint in his eyes.

Harry stared at their entwined hands, trying to figure out if this really was normal or if Riddle just did it because he wanted to. Sure Bella and him had danced together, but now that he thought about it he realized they hadn't touched constantly, only if one of them had twirled the other around.

"What part of I don't know how to dance did you not understand?" asked Harry annoyed at himself as his cheeks began to heat up again. Damn it, and he was doing so well not to blush before.

"Put the other hand on my shoulder," instructed Riddle.

 _He needed to touch him with both hands?!_ "That seems…counterproductive. Wouldn't our feet be too close to each other to properly move?"

The lord was obviously trying very hard not to laugh. "The whole point of pair dancing is to synchronize with your partner and the music."

"Synchronize," echoed Harry flatly, "With your-…" Yes, his face was definitely red by now.

Since Riddle looked as if he would comment rather inappropriately again, Harry decided the best way to shut him up was to just follow his instruction.

He warily placed his other hand on Riddle's shoulder, with his arm stretched out to avoid further contact. This only seemed to amuse Riddle more.

He sucked in a shocked breath when Riddle placed his other hand on his lower back, pulling him close again.

"Why do you get to touch there?" asked Harry suspiciously.

"Why, to lead you of course."

"You're just making this up aren't you?"

"Believe me _Harry_ , if I did, I would arrange it so I could touch you elsewhere."

To prove his words, Riddle's hand crept even lower.

"Stay where you are bastard!"

Riddle smirked, the music stopped for a few seconds and when the new piece began, he began to move.

Harry expected to stumble, or simply getting yanked along with him, but there was no clumsiness about it. Riddle led him steadily, managing to pull him in the intended direction by the simplest nudge of his hands. After only a short moment, their steps synched up naturally and instead of the crazy spinning he did with Bellatrix, they seemed to smoothly glide over the floor. To be fair, the relative slow melody helped as well.

"Stop staring at your feet."

"Why not?" grumbled Harry. _There is nothing else that's safe to look at._

Riddle chuckled and his hand left Harry's back, tilting his chin up instead. "It's not polite."

Harry began to falter in his steps due to the lack of stability that came without Riddle's additional support. Riddle spun him around instead, and when Harry disoriented arrived in the same position again, the hand once again guided him.

"See? It is to lead you."

Harry glared at him. He couldn't deny dancing properly was easier than he thought thanks to Riddle, but he couldn't bring himself to like it as much as what he did with Bella. They had just moved with the music. Now he didn't have any saying in where they were going, when they would spin or how they moved. All the decisions were left to Riddle. The man was probably high on the additional power rush by now.

Riddle seemed to read his thoughts. "There are options for you to lead as well."

Harry frowned and nudged his shoulder experimentally, but Riddle didn't budge.

"However, I don't think it would be a good idea for now, since you obviously have no clue what you're doing."

Harry couldn't argue with that, so he opted for rolling his eyes instead.

The piece ended and Riddle smirked at him.

"What?" asked Harry warily as Riddle made no effort to let him go.

"After a slow piece, they always play a fast one."

The music began anew. To say it was fast was an understatement. It was murderish. Harry soon lost all orientation as Riddle whirled him around as he pleased. Harry couldn't oppose any of his motions, otherwise he would have certainly fallen flat on his back.

Though he had to admit that this was much better than the last one. He wasn't forced to constantly look at Riddle, the world was a single blur of colour yet Harry didn't have to worry he might crash into something, hell, he didn't have to think at all.

Riddle spun him back so that they once again faced each other.

"What were you doing with those men in the library? I know they are non-members."

Harry's mental defences snapped back into place at once. Clever bastard. He had probably hoped Harry would be too delirious to think properly by now.

"Riddle, I'm doing my best here not to stand on your toes _constantly_. Do you really want to overstrain me further?"

"One would assume the truth shouldn't require that much thought."

Harry laughed hollowly. "You have no idea."

He was forced to do another twirl, before they faced each other again.

"What do you know about the seven missing followers?" inquired Riddle.

Harry marvelled at his deduction skills. He wasn't surprised Riddle had caught up to the rumours by now, but his insight about which topics Harry _could_ have discussed with Aberforth and Moody was uncanny.

The music began to slow and Harry guessed it would come to a stop soon.

"The truth?" he asked innocently.

"Preferably."

With the last notes of the piece, Harry stood on tiptoe and brought his mouth deliberately close to Riddle's ear, feeling the other tense.

"I think they ate an apple," he whispered.

The music stopped. Harry left a frozen Riddle behind as he walked away, feeling rather smug with himself for a change.

He was a bit surprised when Riddle made no inclination to come after him, but he guessed the lord was too preoccupied with figuring out whether Harry was joking or simply crazy. Oh well, he had other things to do.

He let his gaze wander, searching for Luna in the hope he could ask her a few more questions. Now that he was certain that she wasn't giving him random answers, he wanted to learn what else the young lady knew.

Instead, he found the nervous man that had fussed over Luna when they first arrived at the mansion.

"Err, excuse me, do you know where lady Luna is?" he asked him politely.

It took the man a moment to recognise Harry. "Oh you are the one she brought with her. I'm afraid, she left to search for one of our followers."

"Search?"

The man fidgeted. "Yes. One of our followers went missing after the first night."

Harry stared at him in disbelief. Luna was probably the only person who had known from the beginning what would happen. If she had warned Harry, surely she had told her followers? Was her theory wrong? Apples were a bit strange, but the number seemed too much of a coincidence.

Harry suddenly remembered that Riddle had asked him about seven missing _followers_. The twins were after the lords. Just what was going on?

With a familiar feeling of dread, Harry left the main hall. He didn't know where he was supposed to go, just that he had to do something. It also gave him an excuse to put more distance between him and Riddle.

In the entrance hall he caught a glimpse of a dark cloaked figure almost hidden beneath the stairs.

He approached the shadows. "Snape," he greeted the man.

"Potter." Snape looked him up and down. "You're still alive."

"Err…" Harry frowned, then remembered that Snape was most likely referring to his blackout. "Yes. Thanks for the food by the way. And for stopping Voldemort from knocking the door down."

Snape's eyebrows rose. "You remember that?"

"No, Draco told me."

"Just out of curiosity…How bad would it have been if I hadn't stopped him?"

"I have no idea. Though, judging by the state the coach was in when I woke up, he'd possibly have killed me right there."

He was rewarded with one of Snape's rare, tight-lipped smile.

"Have you seen lady Luna by any chance?" he asked, guessing that Snape knew all the lords and ladies by now.

"I haven't seen her this evening. Why are you looking for her?"

"One of her followers is missing."

"I know."

Harry snorted. "Figures."

"I don't think you should get involved with that."

"I'm afraid I already was," sighed Harry. Seeing the confused frown, he waved dismissively. "Long story."

Then another idea occurred him. "Did you see any twins?"

"I did not."

Harry groaned in frustration. "Hmm…If you wanted to kill several lords…and you wanted them to be found, but still hidden enough so no one catches you…Where would you do it?"

If Snape wasn't a master of concealing his emotions, Harry was sure he would have gaped by now.

"You certainly ask odd questions Potter."

Harry shrugged sheepishly. "And your odd answer would be?"

Snape paused, considering his question. "I'd say in a closed room, to decrease the chance of someone seeing me. One that is somehow connected to lords in general so I would know people would look there eventu-…"

He stopped when Harry clapped his hands excitedly. "You!" he pointed at Snape, "Are a brilliant man Mr. Snape."

Snape sneered at him. "Thank you for stating the obvious Po-…Where are you going?"

Harry ignored him as he ran up the stairs. If the twins really killed the lords as a sort of message, he knew the perfect room for it. Well, it wasn't closed anymore thanks to Harry, but still…

He ran down the corridor Lucius had led him on the first night. They wouldn't actually hurt Luna would they? Besides, he didn't know when they would kill the lords. Surely he wouldn't run into them exactly right now…

He froze when two identical figures stepped out of the door that led to the empty room and the destroyed secret doorway.

All three of them cursed simultaneously.

And suddenly Harry found himself facing two crossbows. He held up his hands weakly.

"The guy from the library!" they exclaimed at the same time, then frowned in honest regret.

"We're sor-…"

"Whoa wait!" exclaimed Harry hastily when he saw the two gripping their bows in earnest, his thoughts scrambling wildly in his head. "Your name…it's Weasley isn't it?"

They both looked equally aghast. "How-..?"

"Potter!"

The right twin immediately raised his crossbow and aimed over his shoulder.

"Watch out!" cried Harry and twisted around, the bolt swishing only centimetres from his head through the air.

He could see Snape letting himself fall, while the twins ran past Harry and sprinted down the corridor.

"No, wait!" Harry instantly began chasing after them but stopped short when he saw Snape's ashen face, the shaft of the bolt sticking from his shoulder.

"Holy shi-…Are you okay?!" he kneeled down in front of him.

"I've been better," pressed Snape out, drawing ragged breaths.

Harry's thoughts ran wild. The twins obviously knew how to handle their weapons, their aim was impeccable. If not for Snape's incredible fast reaction, the bolt would have hit his heart directly. As it was, it only pierced his shoulder. Harry had stood just in front of them, why had the other twin not shot him at the same time?

He grabbed the shaft in an attempt to pull it out quickly.

"Leave it you ignorant dunderhead!" spat Snape harshly. "It's blocking the blood flow. If you pull it out now, I'll bleed to death."

Harry bit his lip nervously. Fixing up machines was easy, but humans… He only trusted himself to look after superficial wounds, not a freaking hole uncomfortable close to vital organs.

"S-sorry…I-…We need a doctor! Who _is_ Voldemort's physician?"

"It's me you imbecile!"

Harry's eyes widened slightly. "Oh. I thought you-…"

"Potter! Do we really need to discuss my qualifications right now?!"

"Err, right. Just-…Tell me what to do then."

Snape closed his eyes exhausted. "Leave it. Go and get help."

Harry hesitantly stood up, his eyes darting back and forth between Snape and the room the twins had come from.

Snape of course caught his reluctance. "What?!"

"You're not going to like it."

"I have a bolt piercing _through my shoulder_ , do I look like I'm enjoying myself?!"

Harry gulped. Good point. "I think there are seven dead lords behind that room." _Don't let it be Luna…_

Snape groaned, then took a deep breath. "Go."

"Huh?"

"Go. Look. Fast."

Harry spun around and ran into the almost empty room and through the hole in the wall into the hidden meeting room.

His breath caught in his throat and his eyes widened at the sight. There weren't seven, there were…"Fourteen?!"

"Seven are alive," came a gentle whisper from the far left corner.

"Luna," Harry sagged with relief. "I mean, milady! Thank gods, I-…"

"I don't deserve that title," she whispered brokenly. "Not if I can't even protect my…" She took a shaky breath, her eyes fixed on the man that lay next to her kneeling form. The strange airiness that had always surrounded her before was gone. It was as if she had snapped out of her own world only she could see and allowed her to look at things differently. But it didn't matter in which world you looked at death, the result was always the same.

She looked up at Harry, her big eyes glistering with tears. But she wasn't sad, she was angry, frustrated almost. "I _tell_ them. I say and warn and repeat and they- they…"

"They don't listen," finished Harry, knowing the man next to her was dead and guessing he had been her follower.

"They don't _believe_. They don't believe _. Me_."

Harry shook his head, remembering that Riddle had described her followers as particularly devout. "They do, milady. But they can't see what you see." _Because you might just be one of the smartest people alive._

A single tear rolled down her cheeks as she looked back at her dead follower. "It should have been me."

Harry instantly wanted to deny her statement, but then he understood what she really meant and quickly connected the dots. It should have been her. She was the lady, he had been the follower. The twins should have killed her. The seven that were still alive were the missing followers, the seven dead ones their respective lord.

If it was true that the twins weren't after specific lords but chose them randomly, it made sense. Seven poisoned apples, not deadly, but strong enough to knock you out. The chances of a follower taking one of the seven apples was higher, since there were at least ten times as many followers at the balls than lords. Missing followers attracted less attention than missing lords. The twins left the followers alive but hunted down their lords. Everyone searched for connections between the dead, but there were none, it was simple misfortune.

Demons indeed. What were they trying to achieve?

"He told them he was the lord," continued Luna emotionless. "I told them otherwise, but they didn't believe me either."

Harry eyed her dead follower. It was a tough looking fellow. It was natural one would believe him to be the lord and not the frail looking young women that now knelt beside him.

"Why would someone do this repeatedly? They aren't…" he trailed off helplessly

"…bad people? I know." Luna stood up, rubbed her eyes and straightened her dress. "They are searching."

"For what?"

"For whom," corrected Luna.

Harry looked around, thirteen men lying on the ground, seven of them with a bloody hole where the heart was, undoubtedly shot with a crossbow though the twins had removed the bolts. Practical thinkers, economical.

The followers were unconscious, but Harry could see their chests moving steadily. Kidnapped, not killed. Luna had arrived on her own, neither kidnapped nor killed, because the twins had thought it had been the lord himself who had taken an apple.

All in all, six dead lords in one room, and Harry did not have any intentions trying to explain the situation to their followers.

"We should leave. If others find us here…"

A small smile graced her lips, a shadow of her former joy, but still a smile. "They can't see, so they wouldn't believe us."

If Snape or Luna were surprised to see the other, they didn't show it.

"How bad is it?" asked Snape stiffly.

"Six lords and one follower dead, six followers unconscious." Harry carefully put Snape's unwounded arm around his shoulder and helped him stand up. "Sorry, but we can't stay here if we don't want to end up as the prime suspects."

Snape's eyes darted to Luna and Harry could almost hear the pieces click into place as he did the calculations.

"The twins," he pressed out, while leaning heavily on Harry's shoulder, "You knew them."

"Stop talking, you can't waste your energy."

Snape shot him a dark look and Harry knew the man would demand an explanation sooner or later.

When they arrived at the stairs, Luna stopped him. "Too many people, this way."

He followed her through a darker corridor that ended with a staircase as well, but it was much smaller than the one that led to the entrance hall. It didn't come as a surprise that the huge mansion had more than one exit. This one was rather shabby looking and obviously wasn't used by the guests.

Since the ball had still been in full swing when Harry had left, he had expected the outside to be empty. Instead the dark night was filled with screams, crying, running footsteps, people yelling at each other. It was chaos.

"What the hell?" he breathed out.

No one took notice of their little group, or Snape for that matter. In fact, Harry saw a man walking straight into the mansion's wall next to them.

"Voldemort." Snape jerked his head in the direction of the big entrance doors.

People flooded out of the mansion, most of them running and clutching at their eyes or throat, coughing.

Riddle walked calmly, his expression unfazed at the panic around him.

Harry turned to Luna. Neither of them said a word as mutual understanding passed through their eyes. They didn't bid each other goodbye as they walked in different directions. They knew it wasn't necessary.

Riddle's expression was unreadable as he stared at the bolt in Snape's shoulder.

"Careful now, I'm beginning to think you two are a recipe for trouble," warned Riddle coolly.

If possible, Snape paled even more.

"He's got nothing to do with that. I'm quite capable of finding trouble on my own," countered Harry.

Riddle's piercing eyes snapped to him, which did nothing to improve Harry's already shaking knees. Snape got heavier the more his own strength left him.

He gulped nervously. "What happened?"

"Something like your smoke-bombs. The smoke blinded us instantly and made it hard to breath. It's also spreading through the mansion very rapidly. Everyone scattered while trying to get out."

Harry looked at the coughing and stumbling people around them and the flood of guests that still spilled out of the great entrance doors. "You don't seem affected."

Riddle smirked pleased. "I remembered what my little inventor told me while being bound to an altar of course."

Harry rolled his eyes at the pleased tone then nodded to Snape. "He needs a physician."

"Inconvenient," dismissed Riddle coldly, making a gesture to the chaos around them.

"Inconvenient?! He's got a bloody-…"

"Potter will do," Snape rasped out.

"I-…What?! I- I'm not-…" he sputtered in protest.

"Narcissa can help, just get me back."

It was clear the man didn't want to trouble his lord. Harry chewed his lips to stop himself from protesting further. Snape had already lost too much blood, he needed to lie down and get treated fast. Still, the train was all the way down the hill, and Harry was too small to carry him fully. It was impossible for Snape to walk the distance, even with his assistance.

He glared at Riddle. "Help me carry him."

"And why would I do that?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe because he's your _follower_?"

"I protect them, it's not my problem if they run off into danger without my approval," shrugged Riddle dismissively.

"He ran after _me!"_

"My point exactly."

He was about to reply furiously, but suddenly Snape leaned on him completely, causing Harry to stumble. He glanced at the man and saw that he had lost consciousness.

Harry gritted his teeth. "What do you want Riddle?"

Red eyes focused hungrily on him, making him feel sick and thrilled instantly. "You obeying a command of my choosing, time and content being specified later on."

Harry silently fumed at Riddle's fast answer. Too fast. He had planned this from the beginning.

He knew he was being played, and not even subtly at that. But unless he wanted to drag an unconscious Snape down the hill and risk shifting the bolt or perilous blood loss, he needed someone to help carry him properly.

He looked around, hoping against hope to see another member of Voldemort's group, but the darkness and the panicked guests around them made it impossible to search for someone.

He scowled at Riddle, knowing that he knew that Harry couldn't refuse. "You're a cold-hearted bastard you know that?"

Riddle's smile was bittersweet. "Maybe, but I told you _Harry_ , I usually get what I want."

.


	22. Chapter 22

It was a good thing that Snape had already been unconscious. If the man had been forced to witness their improvised surgery, he would have died from their sheer incompetence.

It turned out that Narcissa had attended a medical school for two years, before the chaos had disrupted her education. Sadly this meant she knew barely more than Harry, but at least she also had _some_ practice, contrary to Harry, whose knowledge was based on theory alone.

Looking back, Harry was certain Snape was only still breathing due to luck.

Narcissa had taken it upon herself to stitch the wound up, meaning Harry had had the pleasure to pull the bolt out, knowing that he may very well rip crucial arteries, or tear the muscles apart. No pressure there.

They had used a bottle of alcohol to sterilize everything that came into contact with Snape's wound, though Harry wasn't sure how much good it would do. The man had walked around with the open wound for a good thirty minutes, more than enough time for the wound to get infected. The alcohol also wasn't as pure as Harry would have liked. He could have easily performed a distillation, but that would have cost them precious time.

Snape had been right about the bolt blocking the blood of course, for when he finally pulled it out, the blood all but gushed out of it.

There had also been the problem to find an appropriate string to close the wound. Narcissa only had very thin threads, used to make clothes. They found a piece of a thicker string that would hold the skin together much better, but when Narcissa was halfway through the bloody mess of Snape's shoulder, they realized the string was too short. They had been forced to close the rest of it with normal string.

In the end they managed to stop the blood flow, though it was obvious from the mismatched and poorly executed stitching that Snape would keep a prominent scar on his shoulder.

Riddle's help had consisted of listing several deadly poisons he would have used for the bolt, if he himself had been the assassin.

Harry had ignored him in favour of performing some tests on the metal tip of the bolt, concluding that luckily, the twins hadn't poisoned it.

All that was left to do was to wait and see if the wound would heal despite the horrendous stitching and Harry's clumsy removal of the bolt.

At least that was what Harry thought before Narcissa came to him an hour later.

He was currently sitting outside on a tree stump, on the edge of their camp. Most of his fellow group members had gone to sleep, some had been caught up in the panic and were still at the mansion.

The morning was already dawning and Narcissa looked tired and worried as she approached him.

"He has lost too much blood. His heart is all but fluttering and his weak pulse hasn't improved since we closed the wound."

"Blood transfusion?" Harry groaned, thinking of all the things they would need and didn't have. "Do you know his blood type? Strike that, does anyone know their blood type nowadays?"

"I have AB," drawled Riddle's voice from behind them. He stepped out of the shadows, a bored expression on his face.

Harry couldn't help but snicker. "I'm sure. Negative I assume?"

"I don't see what's so amusing. And it's positive actually."

"Huh. Not so unique after all eh?" he asked mockingly.

The bored expression made way for his usual teasing smirk. "My, categorizing people by their blood type, child?"

Harry was way too tired to raise to his bait. "Why are you telling me this anyway? Do you know Snape's?"

"No. I just thought you should know so you can _save_ me should the need arise." The look on Riddle's face made clear how unlikely he believed this to happen. Then his face suddenly lit up. "Don't forget the mouth-to-mouth resuscitation first."

Harry flushed crimson, but he scowled at him anyway. "You normally do that through the nose you-…" he stopped short when he realized enclosing Riddle's nose with his mouth wasn't exactly a comfortable picture either.

Riddle of course picked up on his discomfort and touched his nose innocently. "Developing a fetish already _Harry_?"

"You. Are. Unbelievable," Harry hissed scathingly. How, _how_ did the lord always retaliate so easily?

"We can use Bella's blood," interrupted Narcissa cautiously, "She has blood type 0."

Harry turned to her surprised. "Why would you know _her_ blood type?"

Both of them looked at him oddly amused.

"She's my sister," replied Narcissa finally.

"She- What?!" exclaimed Harry aghast. Besides the completely different outer appearance, their characters were also opposites. It seemed about as likely as Lucius and Snape being brothers.

"What went wrong with your family genetics?" asked Harry, seriously considering if one of the women had been secretly adopted.

"Not everyone is the perfect mixture of the trademark signs of their parents," sneered Riddle.

Harry bit back a retort because he knew how sensitive Riddle was about his own parents, or well, his mother. Which wasn't fair, considering Harry's parents seemed to be fair game to the lord.

"We'll fetch Bellatrix then. I would be worried to ask someone to cut their wrists open with only a moderate chance at success, but knowing her she'll probably be delighted."

Narcissa nodded and walked off to search for…her sister.

Harry stood up and went back to the front of the train. Much to his distress, Riddle followed him.

"Shouldn't you have something important to do?" he asked him annoyed.

"Shouldn't you be going to the storage coach to search for the necessary things and not to the engine?"

"I've seen some rubber sleeves there that are used to oil the engine, maybe we can remove them and use them to transfer the blood. They would need to be cleaned though, thoroughly clean. The last thing we need is to give him blood poisoning on top of everything else."

"Now you want to dismantle my train?" Riddle inquired, definitely not pleased with the idea.

Harry glared at him. "Only parts of the engine, which I can fix easily afterwards. I can't _fix_ Snape after his heart stops beating."

"How dramatic," sighed Riddle, sounding bored again.

"He has a hole in his shoulder because he ran after me you know. I'm not sure what would have happened if he hadn't showed up right then."

Riddle only shrugged.

"You really don't like him do you?" Harry asked him incredulously, "You can be cruel to any of your followers, but it's much more subtle with Snape…You're downright _bullying_ him."

Riddle snorted uncharacteristically. "You do come up with the most ridiculous ideas child."

"He was right," continued Harry, pointing at Riddle accusingly, "He has known you as a child and now you've got a bloody complex-…"

Riddle yanked him up by his collar and Harry suddenly had a flashback from the first time they had met. Well, at least he could still breathe.

"I don't have a complex," Riddle whispered dangerously low.

"No," laughed Harry, "You've got several."

Judging from the narrowing red eyes, it hadn't been the best thing to say.

"What are you so afraid of Riddle? That he'll go around and tell them…what? That you once hurt your knee and began to cry? That you are in fact _human_?"

Riddle's face remained blank, almost as if he didn't quite know how to react. Harry guessed he was counting on his ability to intimidate people easily. It had worked on him as well after all. But now he simply knew too much about the other man to still feel threatened so easily. Judging from Riddle's reaction, he realized that as well and was trying to figure out what to do.

"You've seen me shit my pants, well diapers. There, I'm admitting it. How about you try the same?"

"You're trying to psychoanalyze me," stated Riddle slowly, looking still a bit unsure about what to make of the situation.

"Somebody has to," quipped Harry, attempting to sound nonchalant while he tried to keep his balance on tiptoe.

"You won't succeed."

"Watch me," challenged Harry. Riddle could say all he wanted, his efforts at burying his past completely weren't normal. Everyone started as a weak child, ignoring that fact wouldn't do him any good.

"I should skin you alive for your sheer audacity," threatened Riddle, sounding nothing but honest.

"Probably."

"Then why are you still smiling?"

"I imagined myself as your new boots."

Riddle studied him, undoubtedly trying once again to figure out if Harry was insane or not.

"I could you know," he assured Harry darkly.

It was a good thing Riddle held his collar and not his throat, otherwise his frantic heartbeat would have given him away immediately. The truth was, Harry very much was intimidated by him. Still, if he was right about his conclusions - and it was the only explanation - if this _thing_ between them worked both ways…Then Riddle's statement was a blatant lie.

"Now who's in denial?" he asked sweetly.

He slapped Riddle's hands away and entered the front coach.

He felt exactly like he had when he had left him on the dance floor. It felt _good_ to get one over Riddle. His grin vanished when he realized he was enjoying this. Truly and honestly enjoying the mental challenge their banter presented. He relished the knowledge he could tease Riddle, knowing the man took pleasure in his comebacks.

"You're cheating," Riddle drawled while walking up behind him. "You were so incredibly dense before. It should have been my right to enjoy your awkward embarrassment for at least a few weeks when you slowly noticed. Instead you're brain decided to just _skip_ that insecure phase. It's not fair."

"You're almost sweet when you're sulking _my lord_ ," Harry taunted before he could stop himself. It just felt so natural to answer Riddle's mocking with his own.

Riddle of course ignored his statement. "Seeing how fast you caught up, I'll just assume you're ready for the next level."

"It's not a game."

His arm was grabbed from behind and suddenly Harry found himself pressed against the wall. This brought back memory of certain happenings on a certain balcony and his breath hitched involuntary.

"Oh it very much is. And you, child, are on your best way to a high score."

Harry bit his lower lip and frowned at him. "You…You just implied something…dirty…right?"

He hated how tentative he sounded. But the truth was that the knowledge about their attraction was still so new to him, that he undoubtedly still missed a lot of Riddle's insinuations. And no matter what Riddle claimed, it still felt pretty damn awkward to him.

Riddle smirked at his uncertain tone. "Did I?"

The next moment his lips were being devoured for the second time. And this time, he didn't kick Riddle away.

His heart was beating just as hard as the last time, but he knew it wasn't caused by panic. There was something very different about this kiss. It felt much more deep and intimate and…raw.

He tried to figure out what exactly was different, but he felt his mind slipping away, becoming blank again. All knowledge, information and calculated scenarios were gone, all the different nagging problems suddenly silent. It was heaven and he wanted more of it.

And that was when he knew that it wasn't so much the kiss, but he himself that was different. For he abruptly realized that he was actually kissing Riddle back, clumsily maybe, but definitely of his own will. His arms were thrown around Riddle's neck, to steady himself or to press him closer Harry wasn't sure. When had he done that anyway?

He also became aware that he couldn't see anything. He struggled to open his eyes and stared directly into Riddle's red ones, which Harry guessed had been open all along, watching him. For some reason, this sent a violent shiver down Harry's spine and a small noise escaped him, muffled by Riddle's lips.

To his surprise, it was Riddle who broke their kiss. Yet it was good he did, otherwise Harry might have collapsed again so dizzy was his head. His legs almost gave out beneath him as he gasped for air. He was one shivering flushed mess and Harry hated how he couldn't hide it at all.

Riddle for his part looked incredibly pleased. "Should we stay on that level for a while? Or are you ready to move on?"

"S-Snape," murmured Harry breathless, remembering vaguely where and why he was here in the first place.

Riddle grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked painfully. "You did not just _dare_ to think of someone else."

Harry glared at him with bleary pain-filled eyes. "He could die you know."

"Utter his name again when you're with me and he will wish he was."

There was nothing but honesty in his voice, but it was so ridiculous that Harry couldn't suppress the laughter that bubbled up in him.

"Let me go help your physician Riddle. Your only physician by the way. Your brilliant and loyal master of-…"

"Yes, I see you're very fast to compliment him," interrupted Riddle drily.

Harry laughed again. "You _are_ sweet when you're sulking."

"And _you_ are running away again."

"Because a certain lord is molesting his followers instead of treating their wounds."

"Molesting?" Riddle's eyes widened a bit and his hand released Harry's hair. He gently cupped his cheeks instead, though his smirk promised the opposite of gentleness. "My innocent little genius, I haven't even _begun_ to touch you."

"Err, well…that, um…Anyways," Harry cleared his throat, evading his eyes, "We should hurry."

"With the touching?" asked Riddle sweetly.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Harry shoved him away, but he couldn't hide his own small grin.

Riddle's teasing became more and more familiar to him and he was determined to get less affected by it. If Riddle could act so bloody composed all the time, surely Harry would manage not to nearly faint every time they were close to each other?

"Don't think I let you run every time _Harry_. In fact, I'm surprised at myself I've let you run so far."

"Whatever keeps you sane," answered Harry absent-mindedly. He was already inspecting the visible parts of the engine. The puzzle it presented was a welcomed distraction for his flushed head.

* * *

About two hours later, the morning had dawned completely and Harry finally let himself fall onto Riddle's couch. At this point he didn't even care that he was in Riddle's room, he just wanted to sleep.

The blood transfusion had gone reasonably well - at least after he had explained to Bellatrix that no, Snape didn't need to _drink_ her blood. She had cut her forearm enthusiastically and had been in the process of pressing the wound on Snape's mouth when Harry walked in.

They had managed to make do with the rubber sleeves, needles and their only syringe. They had been forced to lay Snape on the ground and Bella on the bed, so that gravity would help the blood flow.

Their efforts had finally paid off, when Narcissa declared Snape's pulse had stabilized noticeably.

Harry swore to himself he would study some medicine under Snape's supervision as soon as he got better. Or convince Riddle he needed another member that was proficient in this field. Or at the very least, encourage Narcissa to learn from Snape.

He was just about to drift into blissful oblivion when the door to the coach opened and Riddle walked in.

"Go away," groaned Harry.

"Charming."

Harry sighed and decided that he was too tired to even mind his presence anymore. He rolled over and shut his eyes.

"Oh no I don't think so." Riddle pulled him on his back again, towering next to the couch and glowered at him.

"Explain," he demanded and made a distinctive sweeping gesture around the room.

Harry reluctantly opened his eyes again and blinked around him. The whole room was still a mess, torn books and papers lying everywhere.

He warily looked up at Riddle. "Err…Sorry?"

"Insolent child! What gave you the idea you could use my books as your scrap paper? And what is this gibberish?!" Riddle picked up a few sheets with Harry's hasty writings on it.

"Um, that's…I don't know," he confessed and sat up.

"You don't know?" echoed Riddle darkly.

"I call them blackouts for a reason. I don't remember what I was doing in here."

"So Snape was right? It is like sleepwalking?"

Harry shrugged and began to scan his notes. "It's a theory. We don't know what the pills did to my brain. That's what I want him to find out once we get to your headquarters remember? Hmm…"

Riddle eyed his smile curiously. "What is it?"

Harry pointed at the pages he was holding and grinned up at him. "That bloody baron they were talking about? If you're still interested in challenging him…Well, let's just say he's doomed." The guild would not be happy with Voldemort surviving the challenge.

Riddle's eyebrows rose surprised before he returned his grin. "It's when you say things like these child, that I find it increasingly hard to not just take you."

Take him where?

"I don't even want to know what you're implying now," grumbled Harry and lay back down. Thankfully, Riddle didn't stop him this time.

.

* * *

.

"POTTER!"

Harry awoke startled and promptly fell over the edge of the couch. To his great relief, Riddle wasn't there to see his embarrassing fall.

He quickly picked himself up and went in the direction the loud shout had come from. He noticed it was barely past noon, meaning he hadn't slept nearly as much as he would have liked.

"Snape," he exclaimed cheerfully as he entered, "It's good to see you awake."

Snape looked remarkably better already and his scowl was as intense as ever.

"What the hell is this…this…monstrosity?"

Harry looked at the poorly stitched up wound. "Ah, well…"

"You sewed the skin together like two pieces of clothes!"

"Um, yes, it was Narcissa who did it after all."

"There are two separate strings."

"Yeah…The thick thread wasn't long eno-…"

"Of course it was! With the right technique you could have done it _twice_. Were you trying to kill me?"

Harry sighed. "I'm sorry, really. But you already lost so much blood and we had to be fast once we yanked, I mean, pulled the bolt out."

Snape closed his eyes exhausted. "Well, I believe I should still thank you for saving my life Potter. Again."

Harry shook his head hurriedly. "No, I think you saved mine first. The twins didn't exactly look like they wanted to invite me for tea."

"Ah yes, the twins…" Snape gave him a look that told Harry the man hadn't forgotten about the fact that Harry was somehow affiliated with the assassins.

He looked as if he would press the subject but then he suddenly frowned and tasted his lips.

"Pray tell, _why_ does my mouth taste of blood?" he asked suspiciously.

"Err…Bellatrix kind of misunderstood the meaning of blood transfusion…" replied Harry vaguely.

Before Snape got the chance to demand a clearer explanation, Draco hopped in excitedly.

"Harry! Can I pet it? Please?"

"Pet? What?"

"You've got a bird," beamed Draco, "A big one. Come!"

Draco gripped the hem of his shirt and pulled him outside.

On the tree trunk Harry had sat earlier was a beautiful snowy owl, blinking grimly at the sun.

"Well can I? It suddenly was there, but father said it's not proper to touch other people things."

Harry still stared dumbfounded at the owl. "Err, sure."

Draco almost bounced with excitement as he reached out to the bird with his tiny hand, petting it gently on the head. The owl blinked at him, but didn't fly away.

"There are certainly interesting things happening around you Mr. Potter."

Lucius approached them from the camp. He looked rather worn-down himself, though he was good at hiding it. From what Harry had gathered, Lucius had been one of the last members of their group to make it back to the train.

"That's one way to put it," agreed Harry drily.

Lucius handed him a tiny piece of rough paper. "This was attached to the bird's leg."

_Harry,_  
 _We hope you made it out alright. You can use the owl to contact us, it will know where to find us._  
 _Aberforth & Alastor_  
 _p.s. She somewhat listens to the name Hedwig._

Harry looked at it astonished. One could use birds to deliver the veterans beloved post? Now that was neat. Though judging from Lucius curious look it wasn't exactly normal.

"You made some interesting friends," remarked Lucius cautiously.

Harry grinned at him, knowing he was probably dying from curiosity. "That's one way to put it," he repeated.

Interesting friends indeed. They also wanted him to fix the world. Though that piece of information wouldn't do anything to sate Lucius' curiosity.

He bent down to the owl and stroke her neck with his finger.

"Hello there, Hedwig."

The owl hooted softly at him.

"Oh great, we can make chicken tonight," cackled Bellatrix as she saw the owl.

"Don't you dare!" cried Harry indignantly and cradled Hedwig protectively in his arms.

"We can eat it? Is it tasty?" asked Draco interested.

"No more petting for you Draco," growled Harry. "Bella, you're rubbing off on him!"

"The boy needs a role model," she snickered.

Both Harry and Lucius looked equally appalled at that notion.

"POTTER!" yelled Snape from inside the train.

The four of them turned their heads.

"I think he discovered the rubber sleeve we used to transfer the blood," mused Harry.

"He doesn't sound happy," pointed Lucius out.

"Does he ever?" grinned Bella.

Harry sighed. "Where's Rid-…Voldemort?"

"Back at the mansion," Lucius told him, "They've discovered another round of dead lords after the smoke cleared up and are now holding a meeting of sorts."

"Will the ball continue?"

"No. A good number of groups have left already. It would have lasted for only two more days anyway."

Harry looked at Hedwig again, wondering if he could somehow use her to send messages to Sirius and Remus, or maybe even Luna.

He was about to enter the coach Snape was in, when he caught sight of a man staring at their camp from the other side of the train.

He put Hedwig down and squeezed himself between two coaches to the other side and approached him. When he came nearer, he recognized the tall man with the broad shoulders.

"Ah Mr…Potter was it?"

"Harry please, lord Gryffindor..?"

The lord smiled and extended a hand for Harry to shake. "Godric then, I insist."

"You, err, aren't at the emergency meeting?" wondered Harry, remembering that Riddle had claimed lord Gryffindor owned the mansion and the lands around it.

"I'm not really the type for them. There's nothing we can do about it now anyway, is there?"

"I guess not," agreed Harry politely.

Gryffindor shifted a bit. "You ah…wouldn't know if your lord has already decided whether he accepts Scrimgeour's proposal?"

"You mean if he's planning to challenge the bloody baron?"

Gryffindor nodded.

Harry tilted his head suspiciously. "It would be faster to just ask Voldemort directly."

"Would it?" asked Gryffindor nonchalantly.

They stared at each other for a while, assessing the other, then Gryffindor threw his hands up defeated.

"Argh! Subtleties, insinuations, plots and secrets. Damn them all to hell! I don't like them and I'll be the first to admit that I'm not good at them either. But even I can tell Scrimgeour's up to something. Not just that, but he doesn't like you kid, it's glaring obvious. And that's saying something, because he plays nice with everyone."

Harry was tempted to reply something along the lines of: _Yeah, he wants me to die as unsuspicious as possible. Preferably while following my lord into a suicidal challenge. Oh, his fellow lords also feel threatened by Voldemort's growing power. He kills two birds with one stone. It's nothing personal really. It started with my mum you see..._

"We've got…a history," he said instead.

"A hint eh? That sneaky lord of yours is full of them."

Harry grinned at his choice of words.

"Fine, don't tell me what's between you and Scrimgeour. At least answer me if lord Voldemort is actually considering to take on the bloody baron on his own. Your group is small and new. Now, I know you pulled off some amazing stunt in London, but if you're going against him, you'll get crushed. And I know Scrimgeour thinks so too."

So Gryffindor definitely wasn't involved with the guild then. Interesting. And he even came to warn them of Scrimgeour's true intentions.

"You believe he sends us to his death."

"No, I don't believe. I know it," grumbled Gryffindor.

Clever man.

"You're almost impossibly honourable for a lord, has anyone ever told you that?"

The lord grinned at him. "Usually it's accompanied with the brooding remark that it will be my downfall."

"Thank you for your honest warning lord Gryffindor, but Scrimgeour and the others have already made their biggest mistake."

Gryffindor leaned slightly forward, obviously interested. "And what would that be?"

Harry gave him a smirk that could be mistaken for one of Riddle's.

"They're underestimating us. They're underestimating us greatly."

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what Voldemort's or Bella's blood type is. I even tried to google it, but you know, 'Harry Potter' and 'blood type' only gets you to lengthy explanations about the distinction of mud-, half- and pureblood. So, if there is in fact an official answer and I got it wrong...Well, deal with it ;P.


	23. Chapter 23

The child was sleeping again.

He always slept. When he didn't, he constantly looked slightly tired. Even when one didn't consider his episodes, the child seemed to need at least eleven hours sleep. Tom had heard this could be normal for teenagers, but 21 didn't really count did it? He was beginning to think the child's overactive brain demanded a high amount of energy constantly, not just when he had an episode.

Tom stared at him from his usual position in his armchair.

 _Harry_ …With his eyes closed he looked so peaceful and delicate, it was disturbing. It was the boy's eyes definitely, that changed the whole picture.

He vaguely remembered Lily Potter had had the same. No, not the same, just the same colour. Harry's eyes were so…focused. Intense. Willful. Unlike anything Tom had ever seen.

He had noticed them when Harry was still a baby. Noticed what no one else saw because they had been too busy. Oh, the child hadn't _talked_ earlier than others, which was why nobody had suspected anything.

Tom never told anybody because he knew the adults would think he was crazy. But that tiny little baby had understood every single word, fully aware of what was going on around him. Always so focused and quiet. Learning not by doing but by listening and watching. Unnatural.

And that was why Tom knew Harry's concerns were baseless. It hadn't been the pills that made him what he was. He had been that long before.

When he had met him two decades later in London, long buried memories had resurfaced and old wounds had opened. He had still blamed the child for the fire, having no idea about Dumbledore's involvement. But even if the setup hadn't made him suspicious, he still wouldn't have killed the boy.

Because in that shabby inn, when he had turned around and his eyes focused on him, focused with an intensity that should not be possible, Tom had felt his world shift. In that split second, he would have done anything for those eyes to remain on him and solely on him.

The boy could have been the most powerful lord, people would _die_ for his attention. It was something Tom tried to create with his followers, but his methods were based on words and personality.

And then Harry had opened his mouth. Cheeky little thing. Impudent and bold. His wit cutting right through everything. A sharp tongue that was in dire need to be tamed.

Yet nowadays a single word from him could be enough, barely an implication, to get the child all flustered. Delicious.

As expected, Harry learned quickly. Tom definitely enjoyed to watch him squirm first, then scowl and lately the boy even started to tease. Who would have thought the child could adapt so quickly after that night on the balcony? He had been frozen stiff from shock.

Tom hadn't been quite sure how the boy would react once he became aware of his full intentions. He had expected him to shy away at least temporarily. But then Harry had had one of his episodes instead. It really weren't only difficult calculations then, emotions could trigger it just as well.

The results of his blackout were…interesting, to put it mildly. With Harry's inborn defiance, his strongest reaction should have been denial. However it seemed as if he wasn't capable of denying the things he figured out during his episodes.

This somehow resulted in an odd mixture of rebellious teasing and evasive manoeuvres. Which wasn't such a drastic change from his previous behaviour, but now he did it _consciously_ , testing out the effects on Tom. Oh the boy certainly became a bit twitchier around him, but he also seemed to see it as a challenge. It pleased him greatly that a few days ago in the front coach the child had already responded on his own.

One of Tom's specialities was picking up on little subtleties. He knew the child was already beginning to push _his_ buttons unconsciously. The nerve of that boy! He briefly wondered what would happen if the child learned all the right combinations, but dismissed it swiftly.

No, by then Harry wouldn't just zone out the world to focus on him, by then Tom would _be_ his world. He hadn't lied about his intentions when talking to Remus Lupin.

A nagging little voice in his head told him that by then, Harry would be _his_ whole world as well.

Watching the child's eyes slowly open, still hazy with sleep while gradually becoming focused and zeroing in on him, Tom couldn't quite bring himself to care.

.

* * *

.

Harry glared at Riddle, who sat in his armchair with a fortunately intact book in his lap, yet his eyes were fixed on him. Again.

"Seriously you need to stop doing that. You're creepy enough as it is."

"You've changed back to your old clothes," observed Riddle in distaste.

Harry looked down at his too big and tattered clothes. "We're just travelling."

Riddle sighed theatrically. "That doesn't mean you have to wear those rags. On my couch."

" _Somebody_ insisted I can't sleep with the others," grumbled Harry.

"Well…" Riddle gave his own bed a pointed look.

"Don't even _think_ about it!" he exclaimed horrified. He didn't even know why but that…no. Just no…no?

After Voldemort had come back from the mansion, they had packed their things and got the train moving again. They had been travelling for three days now, making good progress lately because they were on a track the group had used to come to London, meaning all the trees that hindered them had already been cut down. Only occasionally they had to stop because a new tree had fallen across the railway or because the tracks were a bit unstable and they had to slow down.

Harry had become alarmingly used to sleep in Riddle's presence. He also never got to see the other sleeping and he began to think the rumours he spread at the ball were accidentally true and the lord really didn't need to sleep.

"So…" began Riddle in a voice that told Harry they were about to attempt a serious conversation.

"Six dead lords. No apples."

Harry cringed. He had evaded that topic like a plague, cursing himself for his mistake at the dance. He had told Riddle about the apples only to irritate him, but now the man insisted to know what was truly behind that mysterious hint.

At least he didn't know that Harry met the assassins. Only Snape knew that fact, which reminded Harry he still owed him an explanation as well.

"How curious…"

"Indeed."

They stared at each other and Harry found it increasingly hard not to visibly squirm under the other's gaze.

"Speak," demanded Riddle.

"Was that your command?" asked Harry immediately, leaning forward on the couch.

In the last few days, he had tried to trick Riddle into using his one command he still held over Harry since their little deal. Obviously he had yet to succeed.

Riddle looked smug. "No, but there is really no need for you to keep that information is there?"

Harry leaned back and sulked. He was technically right, Harry could just tell him how Luna had come up with that theory. But there was so much more connected to the murders and Harry knew Riddle was fully aware of that.

Harry had told him about lord Gryffindor's warning, using it as an excuse to tell Riddle about the trap. He hadn't mentioned the guild or the resistance, but he felt it was necessary that Riddle knew that the challenge with the Baron was just a setup. Riddle hadn't been surprised. In fact, Harry suspected he had already figured that out on his own. Still, it was one secret less to weight him down.

"Lady Luna told me," he answered after a while, "There are seven red apples at each ball. If you eat one you disappear and when you wake up, your lord is dead."

Riddle arched an eyebrow at that. "And you simply believed _her_?"

In his mind, Harry could see Luna's upset face, telling him with tears in her eyes that nobody believed her, frustrated how no one around her could see what was so clear to her.

"Yes," he said firmly.

"Does that mean I sat through a three hour long meeting, listening to their sheer idiocy while they searched for a connection between the dead lords?"

Harry grinned mischievously. "It wasn't mandatory was it?"

"Attending the ball wasn't mandatory either. But with politics-…"

Harry groaned loudly. "Yes the P-word I can't seem to understand."

"Oh I'm sure you could _Harry._ You just don't show any patience for it."

"Why are you so bloody good at it then? You're not patient with anything," asked Harry suspiciously.

There was an odd flicker of emotions running across Riddle's face, but it was too fast for Harry to catch.

"Patience is just another form of self-restraint."

"That sounds…painful and frustrating," grimaced Harry.

Now Riddle was definitely looking at him oddly. "It can be."

Harry had the familiar feeling he was missing something. He had let those incidents slip in the past, but he needed to get better at this…undercurrent their conversations always seemed to have.

"We, err…aren't talking about the P-word anymore, right?"

Riddle glared at him, as if he was annoyed Harry couldn't catch his implications. He did that often lately. Then he abruptly shut his book and stood up. Harry tensed immediately when he approached him.

When Riddle gripped his chin painfully and tilted his head upwards, he still looked displeased, but there was a positively evil glint in his eyes.

"We really need to do something about your lack of…perception, child."

"I don't mind as long as _you_ work on the concept of personal space," he gritted out.

"I'm afraid what I have in mind has no space for such silly things. Unless…" Riddle trailed of in thought. Then all his annoyance left him and he smirked maliciously.

Harry flinched involuntarily. That look could not possibly result in anything good.

"Unless," repeated Riddle slowly, "Yes, that should be acceptable."

His chin was released and Harry rubbed it warily. "What is?"

The lord looked almost…excited. Not good, most definitely not good.

"I just made up my mind about that one command you seem so eager to fulfill."

Harry rolled his eyes. The bastard knew he was only eager to get it over with. "Fine. Let's hear it."

Riddle smirked as he picked up his book again. "Oh no, I wouldn't deny you the joy of surprise. We will need something that is currently in our headquarters…" He paused to chuckle. "Yes, that will work nicely."

After another disturbing chuckle, Riddle concentrated on his book and Harry took it as his cue to flee.

.

* * *

.

A good day later he once again was on the little platform outside the engine. Snape stood next to him, watching the scenery passing them by in silence.

Snape's recovery was going well. Under his guide, Harry had pulled the two mismatched threads out, cleaned the thicker one and re-stitched it with Snape's instructions. It would still leave a scar, but maybe not a horrid welt.

The pain had diminished after two days and Snape claimed he was perfectly functional as long as he didn't need to carry heavy objects or lift his arm. The last part worried Harry a bit, but Snape had told him curtly this was only to be expected for the next few weeks.

They had met about an hour ago and Harry had recounted everything Aberforth and Moody had told him. He needed to tell at least someone the whole story, or he would go insane.

Snape had listened silently to his explanations how the guild had planned the chaos and the new society they were in, which they seemed to control totally. The man had shown little reaction to his horrid tale and Harry wondered if Dumbledore's deception and the death of Lily had shaken him so greatly that he no longer was shocked at anything.

Snape agreed that while the resistance's desire to overthrow the guild's iron rule was only natural, their plan to use Harry to somehow accomplish this feat had many holes.

They had discussed at length about what to do with the knowledge that the guild wanted him - and apparently also Voldemort - dead. They had come to the conclusion that as long as the guild believed everything went according to their plan and Voldemort would challenge the Baron, they should be relatively safe from further attacks.

Snape also agreed telling Voldemort that Harry grew up with the two people that were responsible for several dead lords wasn't such a good idea.

To Harry's disappointment, Snape had never heard the name Weasley before. He had heard of Albus' brother, but he had never met the man and Albus only spoke of him fleetingly.

After their discussion, Harry was none the wiser but at least he didn't feel like he needed to deal with this cracked world alone. Since he had left behind Remus and Sirius in London and Voldemort's group consisted of rather ruthless or downright insane individuals, he was in desperate need of a friend.

Riddle was out of course. Whatever crazy relationship they were steering towards to, it wasn't going to be cozy.

"We should be able to see it soon." Snape's voice pulled him out of his brooding thoughts.

"It?"

"Our headquarters," explained Snape.

"It?" repeated Harry with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes it. The castle of Hogwarts."

"Castle?" echoed Harry groaning. "Riddle has a bloody castle?" Why was he not surprised?

The corner of Snape's mouth twitched, which Harry had come to interpret as a smile.

"With quite extensive dungeons."

"And torture chambers I'm sure," remarked Harry drily.

"Hardly. It was a boarding school once. It must have closed down shortly before the chaos. It suits our needs surprisingly well. It had to have many classrooms of course, which means empty rooms we can use at our disposal, a large kitchen, then the dormitories with all the beds still intact and," Snape glanced at Harry, "A quite extensive library."

"Library?" Harry perked up excited.

"Are you a parrot, Potter?" snapped Snape annoyed.

He would have been insulted but it sounded too funny and he found himself grinning stupidly. "Parrot Potter," he snickered.

"I take that as a yes," sneered Snape.

"So no torture chambers then?"

He had been quite sure. After all, Riddle had told him they needed something that was in their headquarters to fulfil that blasted command. The lord had been so pleased just thinking about it, Harry had assumed it had to be something along those lines.

"Not that I would know of at least. But there are still many rooms no one has even set foot in so, who can say for sure? Ah."

Harry looked up to see what had caught Snape's attention.

There on a small hill, bathed in the afternoon sun and reflected in the lake at its foot, stood Hogwarts.

The mansion had been huge, almost a small castle, the sort a royal family would have had. Now _this_ castle was massive. Even from afar Harry couldn't even see all its wings and towers. It had to be at least seven stories tall, and if there was additionally a dungeon maze underneath it…

Snape apparently caught his not too ecstatic expression. "Most new members are impressed if not _delighted_ when they first lay eyes on Hogwarts."

"I'll get lost," groaned Harry desperately, "Have you seen my knack for getting into trouble? I'll get lost at least _twice_ an hour. Riddle will have a blast."

"And here I thought we recruited you because of your exceptional intelligence. Surely remembering directions shouldn't be too hard Potter?"

"Do you see this thing? It will take days until I've been everywhere! I thought we were a small group. Wait, does this place have a-…"

"No we've been unable to locate a map," answered Snape immediately.

Harry slumped. He wouldn't be able to sleep until he knew every last corner of his new home. He had never needed to explore London because a detailed map committed to his memory had been all he needed. But if there was no map… His feet hurt already just thinking about all the walking he would have to do.

He studied the castle and its surroundings. With the lake, hills and the thick forest the place looked idyllic. It was impressive and majestic he had to agree on that. It was also completely made out of stone. Keeping it warm in the winter must be a pain in the ass. But Riddle wouldn't think like that of course. He only saw how the massive castle represented his power perfectly.

At least there would be enough space to avoid Riddle or other members if he wanted to. Not like on the train where everyone was hurdled together.

He thought back about Fudge's desire for the territory. It couldn't be just the lake, that water had to be painstakingly cleaned first if you didn't want to get sick. Plus it was a finite source. Then again, Harry didn't know how far Riddle's territory actually reached. This was just their headquarters after all.

"Thief!" Bellatrix' head appeared through the window. "Our lord will allow you in his presence."

Translation: Last coach. Now.

"How _gracious_ of him.," scoffed Harry.

Snape's scowl deepened at Bella's presence. He hadn't yet forgiven her for feeding him blood. Or Harry for not stopping her in time.

With a last look at the huge castle, Harry climbed back in through the window and passed all the other coaches before entering Riddle's. Or well, his. Or theirs. Something like that.

"We'll arrive shortly, I expect you have packed your things by then," Riddle ordered before Harry had even closed the door.

Harry waited for something more, but when nothing came he simply walked out again, feeling once again annoyed that Riddle kept calling on him for no apparent reason.

He had ignored his call once. But on a train it wasn't exactly hard for Riddle to track him down personally and drag him back to his coach. The lord had been furious at his simple refusal, reminding Harry just how thin the path was he was walking on. One moment Riddle seemed to enjoy his attitude, the other he was choking the life out of him. Harry really didn't understand what ticked the man off.

He went to the coach they used as their storage. He had packed as many things and utensils from his shop as he could carry. Since the limited space on the train had not offered him any chance to go about his work, he had never actually unpacked it.

He was about to go and tell Riddle just that, when the train came slowly to a stop. Shrugging, he grabbed his things and went outside.

They had stopped at the foot of the small hill and would be forced to walk the rest.

Apparently they wouldn't need to carry their things. A group of unfamiliar faces had awaited their arrival, clearly other members of their group. They hurried to pack and unpack things, scrambling around busily like ants. It was clear that the party Riddle had chosen to travel with him were privileged.

Most of the unfamiliar members ignored or genuinely didn't notice Harry, others shot him curious or assessing looks, probably noting his age. None spoke to him and Harry guessed no one would before their lord had introduced him properly.

Riddle stood calmly amidst his followers, giving out orders and turning the chaos into an organized procedure.

Harry waited near him. He didn't exactly _want_ an order from Riddle, but he also wasn't sure what to do. They were in his territory now, his home, surrounded by his followers. The last thing Harry wanted was to piss him off and have a horde of devoted followers rip him apart. He would be living with them from now on after all and he didn't want to give them an excuse to be hostile.

Riddle finally turned to him, smirking when he saw him silently waiting. Harry bit his tongue to keep the sniding remarks in, but he couldn't suppress the glare.

"Ah, _Harry._ "

The lord raised his voice unnecessarily. It made Harry even more aware of how inappropriately Riddle pronounced his name. He saw the members pause to stare at him openly. It was the bloody inn all over again.

The unfamiliar members looked at him expectantly, the group he got to know on the train merely looked amused.

Harry realized it was probably expected of him to answer with a polite _'my lord?'._ His glare deepened.

"I'm afraid your formal introduction will have to wait until everything is settled," continued Riddle lazily. "So there's really not much for you to do…Hmm… Ah yes, here, watch over Draco."

Draco was shoved gently in his direction.

Harry stared at Riddle incredulously. "You dragged me across the country to babysit?!"

"I'm sure you'll do just fine," mocked Riddle.

Harry returned his smirk grimly. "Not everyone has your remarkable talent for that particular area."

He had expected Riddle to snap at him, but once again he couldn't predict his actions at all as Riddle smiled at him sweetly.

"Don't worry, at least _you_ won't have to change shitty diapers."

Harry flushed in embarrassment at the reminder. No wonder he had been a quiet baby. His _babysitter_ had probably flung him across the room every time he breathed too loudly.

The crowd was glancing shocked between Harry and Voldemort, taken aback by both of their behaviour. Harry mused over the fact that it must have been the first time for them to hear their lord talk about _diapers._

The followers that had travelled with them looked strangely resigned. In fact, Harry could swear he saw Snape roll his eyes.

"Come on, I'll show you around!" Draco seemed excited that he could be the one to show him Hogwarts

Resigning to his fate, Harry let himself be dragged towards the castle.

"See? He _does_ like you," smirked Riddle smugly as they passed him.

"Oh shut up," grumbled Harry.

This earned him some openly hostile stares from the members. So much for that plan.

Hogwarts was impressive that much was obvious. He followed Draco's blond head while the child babbled on and on about how great and exciting the castle was.

He showed him the great hall where they ate and occasionally held meetings. Endless staircases, large and narrow corridors, hundreds of portraits, drawings and statues.

Harry peeked into rooms that still looked like a classroom he only knew from stories, rooms that had been re-arranged into private living quarters or work areas, rooms that looked cozy, others with thick layers of dust, unused for decades.

The main wings were kept clean and well-lit, but he also saw that a big part of the castle had not been inhabited. It was a work in progress.

"And sometimes when you touch a statue or look behind a portrait there are secret rooms," Draco babbled on. "Or staircases, or whole corridors! Once, someone entered one and never found back!"

Draco looked at him with huge eyes as if this was the best thing ever.

"How…homely," replied Harry drily.

When Draco was with his family or near Voldemort, the kid usually tried to act as composed as his father. Harry guessed he didn't get the chance to act like a child often and thus was even more thrilled to show him around alone.

Occasionally, they passed some members during their trip. They eyed him suspiciously, since they hadn't been there to see him arrive with the others. But they would always notice Draco and keep silent.

Harry realized that Draco was his free pass. Everyone knew him, obviously. He must be one of the very few children of the group and was guarded accordingly. Simply being alone with Draco indicated that whoever he was, he must be someone trustworthy.

Damn that lord. Was there anything he did without planning it through?

He didn't know how long they were already exploring the castle, but it was clear he had only seen a very small fraction of his new home. As worrying as that was, Harry couldn't deny the group had done an amazing job at cleaning out and transforming the castle to their needs.

"Oh I have to show you the bathroom on the first floor," continued Draco, "It has this huge sink and when you push one of the tabs it _moves_ and there's this huge black hole! Daddy warns me not to go there, he told me lord Voldemort will throw me in if I'm disobedient, but I don't believe it because I think lord Voldemort doesn't know about the sink, because it was for girls you see and…"

Harry tuned him out, torn if he should refuse to go somewhere Lucius had forbidden his son to go. But he knew Draco would be upset and then everyone would blame _him._ Harry let out a long sigh. A look wouldn't hurt as long as he made sure Draco stayed away from the hole.

They entered said lavatory and like Draco had told him, the whole sink moved aside to reveal a pitch black hole.

Harry was stunned at the mechanism and at the sheer deepness of the hole.

He crouched down to examine the border, hoping to understand how the thing worked.

"It can't be that deep right?" asked Draco. "I mean, not deeper than the dungeons? Where do you think it leads?"

"I haven't the slightest," confessed Harry. He really wished there had been a map. "It's more like a thick pipe actually. And it seems to bend slightly to the left…But it's too dark to see anything."

"Do you think people die when they fall into it?"

Harry was once again slightly disturbed at Draco's careless look at death. Bella really must be rubbing off on him.

"I doubt it goes straight down, so probably not. The chances to get stuck are most likely hig-…" he froze horrified when he looked up. "Dr-Draco…What is-…What is _that_?"

Behind Draco, the largest snake Harry had ever seen slithered into the bathroom.

Draco tensed at his alarmed tone and turned around, but strangely relaxed when seeing the creature. "Oh, that's Nagini."

"It has a name?" asked Harry faintly.

The snake lifted her head and hissed menacingly at him.

"Don't worry, she's harmless unless lord Voldemort tells her otherwise."

Harry stared at the snake, highly doubting that it was harmless. The snake seemed to think so too, because she never ceased in her aggressive hissing.

Suddenly Draco blanched. "Oh."

"Oh? What do you mean oh?!" asked Harry alarmed.

"Lord Voldemort introduces every new member to her personally so she doesn't attack them…Sh-she doesn't know _you._ "

As if the snake had been waiting for her cue, she darted forward, teeth ready to strike.

Harry instinctively reared back from where he was crouching, but his hands found only nothingness.

With a startled yelp, he fell head first through the pipe and into darkness.

.


	24. Chapter 24

Harry fell.

Down, down, down it went, like a gigantic slide made out of stone. The surface scratched at his bare hands and tore at his clothes as he desperately tried to stop his half-fall, half-glide.

His body rotated a few times, until he finally managed to slip feet first down the pipe.

In the end it spat him out in a damp, mushy and stinking pile of things Harry didn't even want to think about. He laughed anyway, his heart thumping madly in his chest. Blind, disoriented and with new bruises, but alive.

"Harry?" came Draco's concerned voice muffled from above.

"I'm fine!" he yelled back while patting himself down, trying to get rid of human and inhuman waste. "It's more like a giant slide, but I don't think I can get bac-…"

"Awesome!" squeaked Draco and to Harry's horror his laughter suddenly came nearer.

What the hell was wrong with that kid? Oh, right, kid. Slides. Shit.

Harry groaned helplessly as Draco's delighted squeals came nearer and nearer. He considered if he should try and catch him, but the force would most likely knock them both down. Draco would land softer in the unsavoury pile.

"Eww!" exclaimed Draco horrified as soon as his journey had ended. "It stinks!" He looked at Harry accusingly.

"How is that my fault?" he hissed at him. "What were you thinking? You could have hurt yourself! How do we get back up if no one knows where we are?"

"We…W-we can't go b…" Draco's eyes went wide in the darkness, looking as if he'd start to cry every second.

"Ah, no, don't cry! Please! Gods, just…Come on, let's see where we landed. Don't worry, we'll find a way." He hastily grabbed one of Draco's tiny hands and led him forwards.

At least he hoped it was forwards.

The tunnel they were in seemed to grow bigger in that direction. And brighter. Harry took it as a good sign. Maybe it was connected to the dungeons?

Draco sniffed a few times besides him, but luckily didn't start crying. Blasted kid. What if he had broken his neck?

Harry hoped at least Nagini had the common sense to stay where she was. He really didn't want to think how the snake might be slithering behind them.

They walked for a good while until they stood in front of a heavy ornamented stone door. Draco grabbed his hand more tightly. Harry knew what he felt. There was no other way out, if the door didn't move, they would only be able to wait and hope for somebody to find them.

The door was locked, of course. In fact, it didn't have any handles to open it in the first place.

"It's n-no use, I'll- I'll die here," sobbed Draco.

"Oh hush," reprimanded Harry harshly, "We won't die for at least three days. The walls are wet and with water we'll be able to wait here for a good week or more."

Draco only sobbed harder.

Okay so maybe the prospect of spending a week down here wasn't exactly comforting, but he didn't know what to do with a child, much less a crying one.

He inspected the door as well as the faint light allowed him to. No handles were odd, besides, with such an elaborate mechanism for the sink, it wasn't a far stretch to think the door opened the same way.

A week ago he would have been excited at the puzzle. But his last encounter with a secret door hadn't exactly gone according to plan.

Upon closer inspection, he could see all the ornaments were movable to some extent. They were small figurines mostly, animals or strange symbols. Did he have to move the pieces to the right place to open the door? It looked similar to a very complex lock. There had to be a code…Which Harry had no way to figure out, but since when did he need instructions?

"Hmm, let's see…That one here, this over there-…no, that will block the snake…Is that a language?..This one up, that one…left…I think?...Then push here…"

He stepped back and tilted his head in contemplation. He nudged the door once again but nothing happened. He squinted to see the pieces better. The only figure he could still move was the snake. But there seemed no definite space for it.

He pushed against it and slid it along its path. Now that the other pieces were in their places, it made a perfect circle. And then something clicked audible into place.

Harry grinned at Draco. "No camping out after all."

"What did you do?" asked Draco wide-eyed.

Harry shrugged. "Cleared the path for the key, I guess?"

"But you moved them randomly!"

"I didn't!" protested Harry indignantly.

"Then how did you do that?" huffed Draco suspiciously.

"Err…I just…looked? Come on, let's get out of here."

'Out of there' sadly wasn't really out. Instead the tunnel now bore more resemblance to a long hall. A huge, mostly empty hall. The stone floor and walls were slightly wet and there were several stone statues as well. Where were they? Some kind of secret underground church? Why would that exist under a boarding school? Or maybe it had been there long before that…

At least there was more light here, though Harry couldn't figure out where it came from, which somehow put him on edge.

"Oh look! There's another door! Maybe another puzzle?" Draco pointed at the far end of the hall. Harry had no clue why he sounded already excited again.

A distinctive, sharp hissing sound behind them made Harry whirl around in fear.

Nagini…The snake appeared even deadlier in the dimly lit tunnel. And the shadows made her look bigger than she already was.

"Can't you, ah, talk to her or something?" he asked Draco, who had started to whimper softly.

"Sh-she only listens to lord V-Voldemort. I've never seen her so angry."

Brilliant Riddle, thanks a lot.

Nagini hissed again and began to move a lot faster.

"Uh-oh, run!"

Harry grabbed the frozen Draco and sprinted towards the door. There was little hope it would open but he had no time to think - that beast was _fast._ And there was nowhere else to run anyways.

He rattled at the door - at least this one had a handle - and cursed resigned when it wouldn't open.

He slowly turned around, his back facing the door, Draco still half in his arms.

Nagini had stopped her pursuit about a meter in front of them and now raised her head lazily, as if she knew exactly they were trapped. Her tongue flickered between her impressive fangs.

Harry's eyes darted hectically around, searching for something that might possibly help them. Somewhere to hide, a stick, _any_ thing that would separate him from the snake.

She stared directly at him and he stiffed in dreadful anticipation. Even small snakes triggered a primal fear in most humans. A snake as huge as Nagini…Well, he wasn't ashamed of the slight tremor in his hands.

Painstakingly slow, not daring to startle the snake into action, he put Draco down behind him, trying to shield him from the beast. He could hear him whimper in terror, though he did his best to keep silent.

"She knows you right? You'll be okay Draco," he assured him, his voice barely above a whisper.

Nagini closed in completely, raising her head until she was on eye level with Harry. Wasn't that just ironic? He had crossed the country to be killed by the bloody pet of his lord. He hadn't even seen the library yet.

Nagini's tongue darted out, almost touching his nose, and then…tilted her head? If snakes had expressions, this one looked pensive.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise when she lowered herself a bit and slithered slightly to the left, as if it was trying to get around him.

But that didn't make any sense. Harry was the stranger so she should attack him, certainly not Draco.

Without thinking, Harry turned his body as well, blocking her path to Draco. The snake turned around and slid to his right. Harry pushed himself once again between her and Draco.

He didn't understand Nagini's behaviour. Not that he knew much about snakes, but if Draco truly was her prey then she wouldn't slither around them so deliberately slow. It was almost as if she was expecting him to protect Draco.

"Nagini?"

Harry sucked in a shocked breath. The voice was muffled and came from behind them, but by now he would know it anywhere.

"Riddle! For fuck's sake open the damn door!"

There was a noticeable pause on the other side of the stone door, then harsh murmurs followed by several pairs of feet and finally a scraping sound.

Harry never left Nagini with his eyes and because he and Draco were pressing their backs on the door behind them, they promptly fell backwards when it suddenly opened.

Both of them all but scrambled on the floor, trying to get away from the snake.

Harry vaguely registered that they were in some kind of study. It was very similar organized like Riddle's personal coach on the train, just better furnished, including a fireplace, and bigger.

Apart from Riddle, there were also Lucius and two other men Harry hadn't met yet. The three of them stared at him and Draco in disbelief, while Riddle stood outside the study, petting Nagini.

"D-Draco?"

Harry was shocked to hear the stutter in Lucius' voice. Lucius Malfoy did not _stutter._

He turned to Draco and saw what the dim light of the tunnel had obscured. Both of them were still covered in mud, waste and other slimy things, as well as several scratches. Poor Lucius looked ready to faint.

Riddle came back in, Nagini draped around his shoulders like a bloody scarf.

"Though I have no idea how you could have possibly ended up here," he began calmly, "I'm not particularly surprised either. I am surprised however, that Nagini is here as well. Tell me Dolohov, what is my snake doing here?"

Riddle fixed one of the unfamiliar men with a cool look.

"I do not know my lord," confessed the man, sinking to his knees immediately.

"And where, Nott, should my precious pet be?"

The other man followed Dolohov's example and went down on his knees. "Secured in the abandoned east wing my lord."

Riddle turned to Lucius, cold anger radiating from him. "And who, Lucius, is currently responsible for that?"

"I will find out immediately my lord."

With Lucius kneeling as well, only Riddle stood since Harry and Draco still sat on the floor as well. This irritated Harry immensely, but he knew standing up now would immediately draw Riddle's attention to himself.

"Do that," commanded Riddle coldly, "Now."

The three men hastily picked themselves up. Lucius threw a last glance at Draco. It was obvious he wanted to take his son with him, but Riddle had somehow made it clear without words that Harry and Draco were not yet dismissed.

Alone with Riddle - and that beast pet of his - Harry itched even more to stand up. He consoled himself with the knowledge that at least he was only sitting and not on his knees.

Riddle kept silent, still petting Nagini who evidently enjoyed the treatment. Then Riddle extended his right arm and she winded herself along it.

"Your hand, _Harry_."

He gaped at him. "Not bloody likely! That beast almost killed me! Get it away from me!"

"She won't attack you once she sampled your scent. Apparently she already decided you should not be killed, but we better make sure."

Since he most definitely didn't want to get attacked by her again, Harry slowly extended his own arm towards Riddle's.

Nagini's tongue flickered over his hand a few times before she continued to slid along Riddle's arm and onto Harry's.

"W-what is she doing? You said she would only sample!"

Riddle watched him curiously. "She seems to like you."

"What?! She didn't like me a minute ago! Make her stop!" Harry tried hard to suppress his panic, but it was hard when a gigantic snake slowly wrapped herself around your torso.

Once Nagini was completely off his arm, Riddle straightened and watched him struggle in her grip. She squeezed Harry just enough that he couldn't move his arms at all.

Forget about her fangs, she could probably squash the life out of him with little effort.

"Riddle…" warned Harry, hoping it didn't sound like a plea.

"She won't harm you unless I say so," told him Riddle with a smirk that didn't reassure him at all. "She gets a bit irritated when I'm gone for too long. That's why I ordered my followers to keep her strictly in one wing of the castle and stay clear of her. She certainly shouldn't have met you. I must congratulate you on staying alive, it is hard to impress her."

"Impress her?" echoed Harry tonelessly, trying to ignore Nagini's tongue on his neck.

"I have no doubt she attacked you the moment she saw you. But you, foolish child, you tried to shield Draco isn't that right?"

"She was suddenly trying to attack him!"

"No. She realized you were protecting him and thus decided you were not a threat. I don't know why you thought Draco needed protection since he never was in any danger unlike you, but if you hadn't you would be dead by now."

Harry stared at Nagini's eyes only centimetres from his face. She blinked at him and flickered her tongue over his cheek.

"Get her off me!"

"I quite like the picture." Riddle settled in a chair by the fireplace, never taking his eyes off Harry. "Now, how did you end up on the side of my chambers that leads to a dead end?"

"I, um, kinda…fell?" When Riddle continued to just look at him he went on. "The sink in the bathroom on the first floor. I, ah, fell through the hole when Nagini attacked me."

"Hmm…We did think it had to lead somewhere with such an opening, but I never thought it's connected to the hall outside this study."

"But you must have noticed the other door in the hall right? Why did you never follow the path from there on?" asked Harry.

"Because, my stupid genius, no one has been able to open it."

"Oh."

"I have a few theories concerning the purpose of the hall, but the only certain thing is that they went to great lengths to keep it secret. This study is only accessible through a maze of dungeons, tunnels and secret openings and like I said, the other door remained firmly locked."

"So you either know the exact way through the dungeons and all the hidden pathways, or you jump down a pipe?"

Riddle tilted his head in contemplation. "A pipe that leads to a closed door. You won't find the hall or the study if you don't know the way, but if you don't know how to open the door you'll die."

"You think they threw people down there to die?" Harry grimaced at the thought of the mushy pile they had landed in. He dearly hoped he wasn't covered in human remains. "But it is possible to open the door if you know how or, err, just try it."

"My best theory is that it was some kind of cult. Cults often put their members through an initiation ritual. The members that wished to join them could have been forced to jump through the pipe. The locked door would have been their test. I saw the ornaments on the door, my guess is that if you had enough knowledge about the letters or the story represented on the door, you could open it."

He smirked at Harry. "Or you could _just try_ , of course. Though I'll have you know that my attempts didn't accomplish anything. Wipe that grin off your face this instance child!"

Harry ducked his head slightly, still grinning. After all, Riddle had just confessed he hadn't been able to do something.

"How many times has your father told you not to go near that hole, Draco?" Riddle addressed the young Malfoy almost as cold as his father.

"Um, I-I didn't count my lord," sniffed Draco. He was obviously quite terrified to be the source of his lord's anger.

"Oh come on Riddle! Leave him alone!"

Riddle chuckled. "So protective. I didn't think you would take your job so seriously."

"Yes well, some babysitters actually care for their charge."

"Are you insinuating that I don't give you enough attention _Harry_? Why, we can rectify that immediately." Riddle gracefully stood up and approached the still struggling Harry. His expression did nothing to put Harry at ease.

"W-what are you planning? Stay away!"

Riddle harshly placed his hands on Harry's cheeks, his nails scratching the sensitive skin. Harry hissed at the sharp pain, struggling even more in Nagini's grip but achieving nothing.

"Draco close your eyes," Riddle ordered softly.

"Huh? I- yes my lord."

Not needing to check if Draco obeyed, Riddle bent down and claimed Harry's lips.

Riddle hadn't kissed him since the day he had tried to save Snape's live. The feeling was still utterly alien to him, especially because it changed every time. On the balcony their lips had only brushed, the second time had already been much more intimate, but this…this was devouring.

Harry couldn't move his hands, couldn't even move his head due to Riddle's grip. He wasn't able to touch him or do anything except opening his mouth for Riddle's relentless attacks.

He tried not to give in completely, but there was only so much you can do if you could only move your tongue. And Riddle was clearly more proficient in that art, judging from the way he claimed Harry's mouth as his.

One of Riddle's hands left his cheek in favour of pulling sharply at his hair. Harry would have hissed again, but he was in no state to make any sounds.

It was weird not being able to move at all. He could only sit and wait until Riddle was sated. For some reason his body didn't seem to care at all, even though his mind was protesting weakly.

When Riddle finally pulled away, Harry was almost glad he had already been sitting. He wasn't sure he would be able to stand right now.

"Nagini, be a good girl and let go of him." Riddle locked eyes with Harry, smirking. "I want to see him _tremble_."

Harry tried to stop, he really did. But his body betrayed him and as soon as Nagini didn't hold him anymore, he was shivering violently at Riddle's feet. He hated his lack of control, but realized there was nothing he could do and settled for an intense glare to keep some of his dignity.

He expected Riddle to gloat, mocking him for his reactions. Instead he leaned forward again, bringing his lips close to Harry's ear.

"Beautiful." His voice was hoarse and Harry bit his lips to keep the undignified sounds in that tried to escape him. The action didn't escape Riddle's notice.

"No comeback? You're unusually quiet child." His amusement was seeping through now.

"Bastard. Just you wait…"

"For what? What can you do _Harry_?"

"I _will_ get better at this," vowed Harry determined. He refused to be so helpless, refused to have Riddle take charge so easily, refused to be the only one that lost his cool.

Riddle blinked surprised before taking a step back and starting to laugh. It wasn't his usual chuckle, it was the same laugh Harry had heard after he had tortured him at the inn. Somehow he knew Riddle wasn't laughing _at_ him, but was genuinely delighted at his response, though he couldn't guess what could possibly be so funny.

When Riddle managed to compose himself again he tilted Harry's chin up, forcing him to stare up at him.

"I'm not sure if you actually realize what you're saying or if you just take a perverse pleasure in defying people's expectations. Whatever the reason, don't make me wait too long, child."

Harry wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he kept silent.

Riddle released him and went back to the chair in front of the fireplace.

"You can open your eyes now, Draco."

Harry's eyes widened in shock. He had completely forgotten about Draco sitting only a few inches next to him.

Draco blinked, looking slightly confused to Harry as if to ask him what was happening.

"Both of you will go and wash yourself upstairs. Take the first turn left and then go straight, I will have somebody waiting for you that will escort you out. _Harry_ , I trust you'll remember the way, you will come back here immediately afterwards, preferably without jumping into a pile of mud first."

The relief Harry had felt upon hearing they would be dismissed vanished when he was ordered to come back again so shortly.

"Why?" he asked warily.

"To fulfill your end of our bargain."

Harry chewed his lower lip nervously. He wanted to get that blasted command over with, but he also dreaded what Riddle would demand. He stopped abruptly when he saw Riddle watching his lips.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Harry stood up shakily and left the study behind Draco.

Apparently they were a level under the dungeons. Dark tunnels spread out in front of them and Harry knew that even if there had been a map of Hogwarts, these wouldn't be on it.

They followed Riddle's instructions and there was indeed a man waiting for them. Harry remembered Riddle calling him Dolohov. He led them through the maze of tunnels without a word, revealing several hidden openings in the process. Harry sure hoped his brain wouldn't fail him when he came back. Though maybe getting lost was less frightening that Riddle's command?

After going up a narrow winded staircase that literally appeared out of nowhere if you touched the right stone, they found themselves in the dungeons. The light was still dim and it was everything but cozy, but at least it looked like it was made for humans to walk through.

Dolohov turned around without a word and left them there. Harry felt inclined to tell him that he still had no clue where they were, but apparently Draco did.

"Sev's quarters aren't far from here," chatted Draco, once again unconcerned now that they were somewhere he recognized.

"Sev?" asked Harry, then laughed. "Severus? Snape lives in the _dungeons_?"

He didn't know what amused him more, the fact that the man chose the dungeons even though there was a whole castle above him, or that Draco called him _Sev_. He would need to call him that the next time, just to see how the man would react.

"He likes the quiet," shrugged Draco. "Come on, I'll show you the bathroom with the best tub!"

"I hope there aren't any holes in that one," muttered Harry, but followed Draco anyway.

Harry let out a sigh in relief when they entered the entrance hall. He definitely preferred places with windows.

The other members had stared at Harry before, but now that both of them were covered in mud and worse, they were openly gaping. Harry did his best to pretend everything was perfectly normal.

A small group of people emerged from the great hall and all his pretences flew out the window when he caught sight of flaming red hair in the middle of them. It was a small girl, a few years younger than him. Another lost generation.

No way, they were in the north of former Europe after all, it wasn't like there couldn't be other redheads…

"Draco, who is, um, that girl over there?"

Draco turned to see who Harry was looking at. "Oh _her_. My father found her when he was still a lord. My mum just got me you see, and he thought I'd need someone to play with. But she isn't fun at all! She won't even talk most of the times." Draco grimaced indignantly. "She should be grateful to me and my father!"

"Did she lose her family?" asked Harry cautiously.

"Don't know. She wouldn't speak to us. She didn't even know her name or age. My mum named her Ginny."

The girl turned and Harry could see her face clearly for the first time. She was younger and female, but not even Harry's most desperate theories could deny the resemblance.

' _They are searching.'_

Oh gods.

.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm using another story in this chapter, but in order to not spoil the surprise (quite a few of you might know it), I'll put the proper disclaimer at the bottom. As always; I don't own anything.
> 
> For the sake of my own sanity, I refuse to believe that it was me who came up with this idea. I'm blaming this mess on one of my reviews xD. How a perfectly sane question evolved into this madness I do not know^^.
> 
> Don't take the italic parts too seriously, they are clichéd on purpose ;P.

Harry tried to think happy thoughts on his way back to the dungeons. He had heard this would help in such situations, but felt inclined to disagree.

He hadn't talked to Ginny, even though he suspected she was the answer to many of his questions. But he couldn't just randomly start to question her, besides, if Draco was right then she generally didn't speak anyways.

She didn't strike him as an acute danger, but now he was paranoid that the twins would jump out of every corner. And he was really worried they might shoot him _before_ he could ask them a few crucial questions.

He sighed and pulled himself out of his musing, focusing on his present predicament.

He stood in front of Riddle's study, trying to summon enough courage to knock. He suddenly wasn't so eager to get this command over with. It wouldn't be so bad if Riddle had at least told him what to expect.

Well, on the bright side he had been summoned to the study and not some torture chamber. But even so Harry wasn't sure if that was really a good thing.

"I can see your shadow on the floor _Harry_. No need to be so nervous."

Oh great, now Riddle could additionally tease him for being a coward. As if the man didn't already have enough ammunition.

With another sigh, Harry entered the study.

Riddle sat in his customary arm chair by the fireplace, a pleased smirk already on his lips. And Harry hadn't even _done_ anything yet!

He stood stiffly by the door, checking the room for signs of Nagini. Luckily for him she was nowhere to be found. Or maybe not so lucky, for that meant he was truly and utterly alone with Riddle.

"Why hello child, a wonderful evening to you."

Harry didn't even try to keep his jaw from dropping. Oh this wasn't good, not good at all. The lord was terrifying when angry, but in a good mood? That was a whole new level. He wished he could be anywhere but here.

"Last time you said something like that, I ended up getting drugged, bound and almost killed by Dumbledore," muttered Harry.

"Oh no, I wouldn't kill you _Harry_. No drugs or Dumbledore either."

Harry noted dully that he had left 'bound' out of the list. Judging from Riddle's smirk, it was intentional.

"So…What then?" he asked warily.

Riddle gestured to a staple of books on the small table in front of him. "You will read," he proclaimed.

"Huh? I-I mean, sorry _what_?!"

The pleased smirk never left Riddle's face and Harry _knew_ he must have heard wrongly.

"Well, I told you we need to work on your lack of perception in certain, ah, aspects of life. Consider this your education."

Harry stared at the books incredulously. "That's all? I'll just…take them with me and read them?"

Riddle chuckled. "Oh no. I only said you will read them. I haven't quite told you the other…requirements of your task. Please, take a seat."

 _Please?!_ Harry didn't dare get his hopes up. The lord was never this polite, or in such a good mood. He sat down rigidly and waited.

Riddle poured himself a drink before continuing. "Hogwarts was a mixed boarding school you see. In such places you are bound to find rather…interesting books in the library." He threw Harry a pointed look, who had obviously no clue what the hell he was talking about.

"Bella found these a few months ago. I didn't have the pleasure to read them yet, but she took great joy in quoting certain passages at inappropriate times."

Harry held up a hand. "Wait a sec, Bellatrix? She…she _reads_?"

"Not usually, no."

Harr glanced at the books again, expecting them to explode or attack him or _do something_ instead of lying there so innocently.

"Are those detailed description of torture methods? Because I could see her liking those…"

"No, it is fiction."

"Fiction?" echoed Harry baffled. How could fiction be educational?

"So as I told you, you will read them, here…and out loud."

Harry couldn't help it, he laughed. "You want me to read you a bedtime story?"

"I trust it will be entertaining enough to keep me awake."

"Um, okay…Not what I expected, but sure…"

Harry leaned forward to grab the first book, but Riddle stopped him. "There is one more thing you'll need to do while reading it."

Riddle grabbed the book instead and randomly skimmed through the pages. "Ah yes, you will say 'Harry' every time you read 'Geoffrey' and… 'Voldemort' every time it says 'Logan'."

He handed the book to a gobsmacked Harry. "So, um…I'll replace the names..?"

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Was Geoffrey some kind of idiot and Riddle wanted to humiliate Harry by using his own name instead? Or was this Riddle's attempt at training Harry to call him Voldemort instead of Riddle?

"Yes, exactly. Whenever you are ready."

Harry stared at him a few seconds longer, then shrugged and opened the book. It wasn't particularly thick, but if Riddle really wanted him to read all of them, it would take him more than one evening to finish. He wasn't exactly happy to spent so much time alone with him, but if that was all…

He cleared his throat and began to read. Riddle hadn't lied, it was fiction.

The main character Geoffrey - Harry - was a 19 year old student who wanted to get into his dream University. Apparently it was a very well-known University, and Geoffrey/Harry was afraid to fail his entrance exams, since he did not have outstanding marks.

Harry glanced up at Riddle, trying to determine if this was why he had forced him to swap the names. Did he think Harry would be bothered that his literary counterpart wasn't a smart student?

But Riddle lounged in his chair, lazily sipping at his drink, staring at Harry.

He briefly considered if Riddle wanted him to learn about the old world. Harry had to admit that while he had heard of Universities, the concept about the necessary marks and entrance exam was new to him. Riddle had claimed the story would be educational after all…But why would Harry need to know those things?

Harry focused back on the book.

Geoffrey/Harry's older brother Milo was introduced briefly. Apparently they had lost their parents when Geoffrey/Harry was still a small boy. Since then, Milo had taken care of him.

Logan - Voldemort - was a childhood friend of Milo, 28 years old, a bestselling author, unbelievable rich and pretty smart. He was supposed to help Geoffrey/Harry pass his exam by giving him remedy lessons at his home.

And that was when things became a bit odd.

When Geoffrey/Harry arrived at Logan/Voldemort's luxurious apartment for their first lesson, he found a book that was written by the bestselling author. It was a romance novel and apparently one of the main characters was in fact Milo, for Logan/Voldemort had been secretly in love with him for a long time.

This pissed off Geoffrey/Harry and he stomped into his would-be teacher's bedroom, waking him quite rudely and demanding an explanation.

" _You pervert! What the hell is going on in that book?! You have no right to use my brother for your sick fantasies!" yelled Harry and let the disgusting book fall to the floor, glaring at the author who climbed disgruntled out of bed._

" _You saw that, eh?" Voldemort's voice was menacing as he slowly approached Harry. The cold look in his eyes made Harry shiver, but he stood his ground determined._

" _Don't just go around using other people like that! Just because my brother is kind gives you no right to take advantage of him! Go find someone else! Any man will do right?"_

_Voldemort's eyes narrowed dangerously before he suddenly grabbed Harry's wrist and tossed him onto the bed._

" _Ouch! What-..!" protested Harry and immediately tried to sit back up, but Voldemort was already above him, pinning his wrists down and straddled his legs with his knee._

" _What the hell do you know about me?" hissed Voldemort irritated._

" _Let go of me!" demanded Harry and struggled against his grip, but the other was too strong._

" _Any man will do you say? You're pissing me off."_

_Voldemort brusquely turned him around, pressing his face into the mattress and twisting his arm painfully on his back. Harry trashed around wildly, crying out in pain when the grip tightened._

" _You bastard! What do you think you're doing?"_

" _Any man will do, right? You said so yourself," smirked the older man evilly._

_He bent down and licked Harry's neck while his free hand slipped under his shirt, stroking the bare chest._

_Harry froze in panic when an unmistakable hardness pressed against his back as Voldemort bent over him completely._

_He shuddered involuntarily. "T-That's n-not what I meant! Stop it you pervert!"_

_Voldemort merely chuckled maliciously. "Why don't you scream for help, hmm? Mr. D-grade idiot."_

" _What did you say you asshole?!"_

_Voldemort tsked and his free hand slipped into Harry's pants instead, grabbing his-_

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

Harry let go of the book as if it had burnt him.

Riddle sat relaxed in his armchair across from him, an innocent expression on his face. "He grabbed the 'what the hell'? My, that is unexpected."

"I-…That..! Y-you-…What?!" Harry raked through his hair, angry, stunned and utterly mortified.

Riddle raised an eyebrow. "If you have trouble finding the right words on your own, there are still a lot you can read."

"There's no way in hell I'm going to read that t-to you! That is…It's- It's..!"

Riddle tilted his head, still with that blasted innocent face. "If it's the dubious consent that is bothering you, let me assure you Bella's other excerpts have made it clear that 'Harry' comes to rather enjoy the-…"

"That's not the fucking problem and you know it!"

Harry hid his face in his hands. This could not be happening, they were on page 22 for fuck's sake! There were at least five books on the table! He couldn't read those things, let alone say them out loud in front of Riddle, _while using their names_.

"We had a deal _Harry_ ," reminded him Riddle and Harry hated how he used his name. "Read."

"I hate you," spat Harry, making no move to pick up the book again.

Riddle merely returned his glare, unfazed. "Read," he repeated.

Harry snarled at him and grabbed the book. Fine, he could do this. It was just a stupid story, it wasn't like it was actually Harry that did those things. He would just read it mechanically, he didn't even have to think about the words.

He took a deep breath. "His free hand slipped into…Harry's… pants instead, gr-grabbing his-his-…"

Riddle snorted. "You're even worse off than I expected."

"At least change the names back!" cried Harry indignantly.

Who was he kidding? There was no way he could read without having a clear picture of it. Harry wasn't sure he had ever felt this mortified and…violated.

"Things can only be humiliating if you let them child. Only if you make yourself feel inferior do they have power over you."

"That's easy for you to say! You're just sitting there and listening!"

Riddle seemed to contemplate this. "You believe there's a difference?"

"Of course there's a fucking difference!" gaped Harry.

"Very well. Toss me the book."

Harry frowned, but tossed him the book, relieved to get the thing away from him.

He had not expected Riddle to open it himself.

… _his free hand slipped into Harry's pants instead, grabbing his cock roughly._

_Harry gasped as his hands began kneading the member, which instantly began to grow under the administrations._

" _S-Stop, ah!"_

_Voldemort's thumb flickered over the head, teasing it lightly with his fingernail._

_Harry squirmed in the iron grip, but to no avail. It didn't matter what his mind wanted, his body responded eagerly to the man's touch. This felt so much more intense than when he did it himself. He could already feel himself growing close, his hips involuntarily buckling forward to get more friction. Harry bit his lips to keep himself from moaning, not wanting to give Voldemort the satisfaction. But he couldn't stop the ragged pants that escaped him as he pressed his face into the mattress._

" _Hmm? You're quite cute like that."_

_Voldemort's deep husky voice was all it took to drive Harry over the edge. He balled his fists as the pleasure washed over him, shaking his body violently._

" _Heh." Voldemort pulled his hand back and gave his fingers a short lick. "That sure didn't take long."_

Riddle's eyes burned into his.

Harry was distantly aware that he was gawking, his body trembling from the effect Riddle's velvet voice had on him. The parallel wasn't lost on him.

The lord hadn't faltered once. In fact, he had read it like he savoured every word on his tongue, making certain Harry knew exactly what he was imagining. It had been bad to read it, involuntarily picturing the scene, but Riddle managed to make him _feel_ it.

His mind was frozen in terror, but certain parts of his neither regions had taken a new interest in his predicament. They could go straight to hell for all he cared.

"Well, was listening easier?" Riddle asked him pleasantly, as if nothing unusual had happened, completely unaffected by his own words.

Apparently Harry's crimson cheeks were enough to answer his question.

"Don't feel bad that you didn't last longer, it is only natural for someone so young-…"

"It wasn't _me_!" protested Harry, his voice breaking at the end.

Riddle's smirk returned with full force. "Oh but it will be."

Harry blanched at that.

He barely managed to catch the book when Riddle tossed it back to him.

"What happened to your promise to 'get better at it'? A challenge then. You like challenges don't you, child? I _dare_ you to read it without stuttering through it."

"That's not fair," mumbled Harry, but he could feel his obstinacy return somewhat.

A game. Riddle was toying with him, exploiting his insecurities and inexperience expertly. Being reduced to the flustered mess he was right now was exactly what the man wanted…Or not, since he actually tried to 'educate' him first. So what did Riddle want from him? What had caught his interest anyway?

"Just out of curiosity…Would you be more comfortable if the roles were reversed?" asked Riddle, sounding sincerely interested.

"Um…" Harry thought for a moment, cringing when two equally disturbing pictures appeared in his mind. "Yes."

Riddle stared at him in disbelief. "Yes? Oh my, child…Apparently I wasn't clear enough about our positions whe-…"

"Crystal clear, thanks _my lord_ ," interrupted Harry hastily. "It's just that I know _I_ would never suddenly…do that…t-to you, but…err…"

"But you think I just might," finished Riddle, leaning back in his chair pleased. "That makes the story so much more realistic don't you think?"

Harry glared at him. That was why the whole thing was so disturbing in the first place. He just hoped he would never again be forced to make a deal with Riddle. He knew after the theory came only practice.

"If you don't start reading soon," warned Riddle darkly, "I'll pick a scene from the last book. And believe me, such things have a tendency to…grow in intensity."

Harry felt slightly nauseous after that.

When he still didn't open the book, Riddle extended his hand.

"No, wait! I get it already! Just…give me a second, not everyone has your bloody self-control," grumbled Harry.

"Do you want to see me flustered?"

Harry choked on his breath. "W-w-what?"

That wasn't possible was it? Riddle never lost his composure. Okay he did, but only when he was enraged beyond all measures. To imagine his expression in the throes of pleasure was just…

Harry's face burned.

Riddle's eyes widened marginally. "You…What did you just picture _Harry_?"

"N-nothing," he choked out.

He squirmed back in his seat when Riddle stood up and loomed over him. Riddle's hand tilted his chin up, not forceful like earlier, his touch nothing more than a ghostly sensation. Harry's burning skin developed goosebumps immediately.

"Read it to me like you mean it and I'll come undone."

Harry stiffed in shock. It wasn't so much the words, but rather the sincere tone of the lord that froze him. They stared at each other completely motionless before Harry remembered how to breath.

Riddle's expression changed and he sighed mockingly. "Well I see it's too much for you still. After all, I wouldn't want you to chew off more than you can bite."

Harry saw red. With a feral snarl, he grabbed the hand on his chin and pulled while turning his body, reversing their positions on the armchair.

Out of all the things that had happened this day, sitting on top of Riddle was easily the weirdest.

Though he had to admit, Riddle's astonished expression was worth it.

As if everything was completely normal, Harry reopened the book and nonchalantly began to flip through the pages, searching for the point they had left off.

He was a bit surprised that Riddle didn't attempt to reverse their positions again. Either he was getting exactly what he planned, or he truly was too surprised to react.

Harry began to read again, determined to find out whether it really affected Riddle as much as him.

The story continued idly for a while. Milo had to move away because of his job, leaving Geoffrey/Harry to stay with his best friend Logan/Voldemort. The older man was of course thrilled about his new roommate, while the young student was trying desperately to avoid the perverted author.

Once again, the story described Harry's own life way too precise.

There were some very indecent groping scenes but to Harry's relief none escalated. That is, until his literary counterpart found himself pinned down on the coach.

_His skin was burning everywhere Voldemort touched him. He was growing weaker and more light-headed by the second. Harry had managed to escape him for several weeks now, but he simply did not have enough strength to push Voldemort away anymore._

_Even though his own feelings were still confused, the man was so damn certain of himself it was hard to deny him anything at all. And Harry wasn't sure anymore if he wanted to deny him any longer._

" _Harry," murmured Voldemort while nuzzling his neck._

" _Sto- nngn."_

" _Shh, don't think. Just let yourself go."_

_Voldemort spread his legs with his own and Harry tightened his hold over Voldemort's back._

" _G-go slow 'kay?"_

_Voldemort kissed him in response, pushing forward while Harry's back arched into their embrace, the two bodies melting into o-"_

"Heavens above, who wrote that crap?!" Harry looked up indignantly, meeting Riddle's burning gaze.

Harry folded his arms in front of him, glaring at Riddle. "I hope you realize that I will never _ever_ just spread my legs obediently while crying underneath you."

If possible, Riddle looked even more pleased at that. "You didn't think I would _nuzzle_ you, did you?"

Harry snorted. "Oh and here I thought these books are supposed to show me your hidden _tender_ side."

He couldn't quite believe what they were talking about, but at this point he didn't even care anymore. These books were way too sappy and loving to ever apply to his relationship with Riddle. It became clear to him now that they couldn't be more different from the two protagonists. They both knew it. And they were joking about it.

"Maybe we could ask Bella for something more…fitting to your tastes," smirked Riddle, pulling Harry closer to him so that he was almost lying on top of him.

" _My_ tastes?" asked Harry sceptically. "You know I could just build you a puppet if _that's_ all you want."

"Hmm, a gracious offer that I must decline. Do you want me to show you what it is that I want _Harry_?"

Yes. No. I don't even know what we're talking about.

Harry tilted his head. "Maybe."

He almost didn't get to finish before Riddle kissed him in a way that could not possibly be described in any book. A rational part of him was noting that this was the second time this day and if these things didn't happen a bit too often now.

There was definitely more clawing than melting involved and Harry was pretty certain he tore Riddle's shirt. But the lord was too busy with holding him in place to berate him.

It was clear that as much as it pleased Riddle that Harry was returning his administrations with full force, he had had enough with lying on his back. Harry for his part had no intentions whatsoever to let Riddle reverse their positions again. They were struggling for a while, until Riddle seemed to decide that their current position gave him better access to Harry's back anyways.

Thrilled with his minor victory, Harry leaned more heavily on Riddle. He wasn't exactly pushing him down with his weight, but well, one could try right?

Riddle growled and bit his lip in response. But by then, Harry's coherent senses were long gone and he could only concentrate on getting _more_.

Until a hand sneaked into his pants and Harry's focus snapped back into place. He jumped up on all fours, landing unsteadily on his feet and backed away to the next wall.

Riddle was sprawled out in the chair, his eyes trailing lazily behind Harry, the intensity slowly returning.

The lord didn't move, but every muscle seemed tense, ready to…what? Jump at him?

They were both breathing hard, Riddle additionally had grabbed the armrests so hard his knuckles turned white.

Harry shuddered against the wall. How should he ever counter such force? He would get crushed.

He realized the lord resembled a predator exceptionally well. And Harry was nothing but prey.

But he would not be caught.

Yet.

He slowly backed away further, his eyes never leaving Riddle, just as Riddle's eyes never left him.

Harry tried to convince himself that he wasn't running away again. It was just…a strategic retreat. Riddle didn't try to stop him, he was just watching him silently, his body still ready to strike.

Creepy as fuck.

Harry actually walked through the door _backwards._ Showing Riddle his back seemed like the stupidest thing to do right now.

He let out a tense breath.

What the hell just happened? He had been prepared for a humiliating or painful command, but of course, Riddle had chosen to mess with his head instead.

And what a mess it was now. Half of him still wanted to go _back in there._ As if any sane person would even consider that.

"I must be the most deranged, sick, confused-…."

"…obnoxious, insufferable brat that ever lived?"

Harry staggered back in shock, then glared at the shadows.

"Jeez, are you _everywhere_?"

Snape stepped into the dim light of the torch. "Let's say I work hard to keep people wondering about that."

"What do you want?" sighed Harry.

"Add 'rude' to your list Potter," he sneered. "I am working on _your_ tests after all. I'll need your blood."

"Anything that gets me away from here is a step for the better."

He scuffled behind Snape, who led him through the maze back to the dungeons and into a room that looked very much like his old working place, but _a lot_ tidier.

Snape gestured to an uncomfortable looking wooden stool for Harry to sit while he carefully took and stored his blood.

While sealing the last bottle, he subjected Harry to his unnerving scrutiny.

"You look at me like my blood just came out green or something," grumbled Harry.

"Maybe I expected that. At least then I'd have some explanation."

"For what?"

Snape glanced back at him and took a moment to look him up and down.

Harry followed his stare, taking in his own dishevelled appearance and suddenly realizing his bloodied lip was throbbing mildly in pain.

He looked up and met Snape's inquiring eyes.

"Don't ask."

Snape quirked an eyebrow. "Draco told me you made him _laugh_."

"Shut up."

"Actually _laugh_ , Potter."

Harry buried his head in his hands and groaned. "Shit, how many people has he told the story?"

"Of his grand adventure? Everyone has heard it at least twice."

Harry sighed frustrated, he hadn't even thought about what his recent bad luck might do to his reputation.

"Since you helped me twice Potter, I'll tell you a few things about the group you landed in."

Harry looked up confused. "Why do I need to know that now?"

"Because new members are not supposed to come here, fall through a giant rabbit hole and spent several hours alone with our lord."

"He ordered me to!" protested Harry.

"That," stated Snape coolly, "Is the worst part about it."

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer:** The series Junjou Romantica belongs to Shungiku Nakamura (at least according to Wikipedia, I personally never read it, only watched the anime (which of course I don't own either)). Some of the events I used are almost exactly as in the series, others are a bit inaccurate. I do not own any of them. I only replaced the names with random ones.


	26. Chapter 26

From Snape's description, Harry was able to draw three major conclusions.

One: Voldemort's group was a jealous bunch of people, competing for their lord's attention.

Two: Each and every single one of them was a killing-machine.

And thus three: Harry was bound to get killed by one of them for ignoring the hierarchy within the group and somehow managing to make lord Voldemort himself order him to spent several hours with him. For no apparent reason.

Newbies were not supposed to get so much attention from the lord. He either had to prove himself fast or the other members would tear him apart. And he better not get distracted by Riddle.

On top of this lovely realization, Harry also had no clue where he could sleep. Neither Riddle nor Snape or even Draco had mentioned to him where he was supposed to live from now on.

From what he had seen with his tour with Draco, most members had their own quarters, which were previously used as classrooms. Such luxury was of course only possible because Hogwarts offered so much space.

Still, it was somewhere around midnight and Harry was standing alone in some corridor, leading to god knows what.

He gave up on the idea to actually find a bed, but he would not sleep out in the open like that. Every honed survival instinct rebelled against that idea.

So he began to climb the massive staircase, guessing that most members probably preferred their quarters close to the ground floor, so that they wouldn't have to walk up and down the stairs all the time.

Which meant Harry's goal was as close to the sky as possible. And to not get lost, obviously.

He had nearly reached the top of the staircase when he noticed a battered painting that seemed to halfway cover up a hole in the wall. Given his previous adventure with holes, he approached this one especially cautious, but it only appeared to lead into another room.

He had no idea why there was a round hole in the stone wall instead of a door, but there was a thick layer of dust covering the ground, indicating that no one had set foot up here for a very long time. Perfect.

He climbed through the hole to the other side. He wasn't able to see too much in the dark, but in the silver rays of moonlight that came through the windows, he recognized several fireplaces, couches, chairs and small tables. There was even a dusty chessboard on one of them, the pieces left frozen in their previous game.

A quick look in one of the smaller rooms behind that one told Harry everything he needed to know. He was standing in one of the dormitories of the school. He had known there would be several of them, but he also knew with so much spare space the group would prefer to arrange their own quarters instead of using the dormitories.

But since this part of the castle was obviously unused and with the half covered up entrance, there might be a chance no one even knew about this place yet. So whoever had said Harry couldn't use a whole dormitory for himself? Besides, he could use the space of the common room to set up his new workplace. And with it being so high above ground level, no one would disturb him here. It was perfect.

So Harry shook the dust from one of the big four-poster beds, trying to get it as clean as possible, before climbing in and fall soundly asleep.

.

* * *

.

He awoke to sunlight and a growling stomach, reminding him that he hadn't eaten anything for dinner.

He breathed in some of the dust that still lay on his bed and sneezed several times while climbing out of it.

With the morning sun, he could now clearly see just how dusty everything was. The beds, chairs and the whole common room appeared white. It would take a good deal of effort to get it all cleaned out, but apart from that it looked even more comfy than yesterday.

He left all his things in the dormitory and climbed through the hole. The old, yellowed painting was actually a portrait of a rather corpulent lady. Harry adjusted it so it covered the hole completely and began to walk down the stairs, hoping his sense of direction would not fail him while searching for the great hall.

Draco had told him that was where the group ate, and Harry's stomach was very insistent to go there as fast as possible, even though his head told him to run and hide from Riddle.

Apparently he wasn't fast enough.

Upon entering the great hall, dozens of faces turned towards him, nothing but murderous contempt on them.

"Finally!" cried Bellatrix, appearing out of nowhere to Harry's left and gripping his arm almost painfully.

"Breakfast is at eight you know," she scowled at him, "Everyone is required to appear. At eight. Do you get what I mean?"

"It's…not eight?" guessed Harry warily, glancing at the hostile stares of the others while Bella walked him through the hall.

"It is not eight," she nodded. "So our lord has generously ordered us to wait for our newest member."

Meaning the whole assembled group had spent hours sitting in front of their breakfast, not allowed to eat anything. No wonder they looked ready to kill him.

Harry glanced at the head table, meeting Riddle's contemplating gaze.

That was fucking unfair! No one had mentioned to Harry he was required to be anywhere at the morning! Draco and Snape might have genuinely forgotten to tell him so, but Riddle obviously had left out that detail.

And here he was actually _trying_ not to piss anyone off.

He wanted to tell everyone that he hadn't known, but he knew it would just come out as a weak excuse, so he kept his mouth shut.

Bella led him to a chair right next to Riddle. Most of the members sat along four big tables in front of the head table, only a few were privileged enough to sit with Riddle. Or cursed, in Harry's case.

He found himself sitting between Riddle and Bellatrix, wishing everyone would just ignore him already. Further to his left sat the Malfoys and Snape, to the other side there were the two men he had met in Riddle's study as well as three more.

Riddle nonchalantly took a bite out of his piece of bread and everyone began to finally eat.

Harry glared daggers at the man. "You could have told me you know."

Riddle diligently chewed and swallowed before deigning to reply. "I _could_ do a great many things child."

His hand brushed Harry's lightly as he reached out to take his glass. Harry stiffened, surely the lord wouldn't do anything _here_? Riddle saw his frozen expression, guessing correctly that he was thinking about last night, and smirked.

"Could you please go kill yourself?" snapped Harry, taking an angry bite out of his own bread. It was long cold of course, but still obviously fresh. Voldemort's group ate well.

"I plan to conquer earth before moving on to rule hell."

Harry rolled his eyes exasperated, but said nothing in favour of taking another bite.

The others chatted in a low murmur at the other tables, their attention finally shifting away from Harry. Thankfully, the head table was far enough separated so that they hadn't heard what Harry had said.

Still, from the frequent glances in his direction, he guessed the hall was buzzing with unpleasant rumours about him.

"Have you set up your workplace yet thief? You simply must show me around sometime, I heard stuff explodes when you touch it." Bella seemed delighted at that fact.

"I've found the appropriate rooms," admitted Harry, "but I'll have to clean them first. They're completely covered with dust."

"You can ask Ginny for buckets and rags," suggested Narcissa, "She's the girl at the second table with the red hair."

Harry sputtered into his drink at the mention of Ginny. "Err, sure, thanks."

"Clean fast. I need you to get working."

Harry turned to Riddle, trying hard to suppress his irritation. This was what he came here to do after all. Instead of several customers, there was now only Riddle, this was the only change.

"What should I work on first?"

"At the inn…" began Riddle thoughtful, ignoring Harry's obvious discomfort at the reminder, "What was that?"

"Err... It doesn't have a name or anything. It basically stimulates the area of the brain that is responsible for processing pain."

And I really don't want to give _you_ one.

"Get me a few of those."

"A _few_?" he exclaimed horrified.

Harry sighed defeated, knowing he couldn't very well refuse Riddle's request, most certainly not here.

"Are you planning to tell me what you need them for?"

"No."

Right. Why had he even asked?

"I might not have the necessary pieces to make several of them, so it will take a bit longer. I imagine there are a lot of things here in the castle I could use as well, I'll need to scavenge for them though."

"Can you make me one by the end of today?"

Harry stared at him. "If I say yes, will you start making impossible deadlines with every project I work on?"

"The thing is Harry, I have no clue how fast you can do what. So I'll just assume you can get me what I want by whenever I want them."

"Don't you ever get tired of being a conceited bastard?"

Riddle smirked. "Certainly not when I'm around you."

Before Harry could reply anything Riddle stood up.

The hall grew instantly quiet as he addressed his assembled followers. "At sundown, by the old willow."

Without any further explanation, Riddle turned and left the hall.

Harry almost asked him why or what would be happening then, but managed to bite his tongue. There, he was making a real effort to play nice.

"Does he do that often?" he asked Bellatrix instead.

She shrugged. "Sometimes, but only if everyone is required to be present."

"Yeah I get that, but what is it about?"

Bella shot him an appalled look. "Our lord does not need to explain his motives or plans."

Harry rolled his eyes again. The cult around the man was eerie.

It was clear that meals started when Riddle began to eat and apparently also finished when he did. As soon as Riddle had left, everyone else began to leave as well.

Harry let them go ahead a bit before he took a calming breath and headed off in the direction he had seen Ginny leave.

He caught up to her easily and in a rare occasion of good luck, he found her alone.

"Umm, sorry…Hi," he said nervously.

Ginny stopped and turned to him, but didn't reply or react in any way, she just stared at him expectantly.

"Err…Narcissa told me you could get me some rags and stuff..? To clean my rooms…"

She nodded and began walking again, Harry trailing after her.

"So umm…Your name is Ginny, right?"

Another nod.

"You, err, you have a last name too?"

She shook her head.

Harry was strangely disappointed at that. He should have been happy enough with her not recognising him, that would have meant big trouble after all. It also meant he wouldn't get any answers.

"Are you sure? I mean…does the name Weasley mean anything to you?"

She shook her head again. She didn't do it too fast or with a pause, nothing indicated that she was lying.

Harry gave up. That was as far as he could go without seeming completely suspicious.

Ginny led him to a spacious cupboard, pulling out a bucket and several rags, as well as a broom and handed them to Harry.

"Thanks!" Harry smiled at her, but her expression remained blank as she nodded again.

Jeez, she was harder to crack than Snape. At least the man scowled.

He turned to leave but a small, melodic voice froze him.

"You talk."

He whirled around, not daring to say anything as he stared at Ginny. Her expression was still passive and blank, but she met his eyes steadily.

"How come you talk now?" She didn't really formulate it as a question, she stated it as a fact that seemed to mildly astound her.

"I…Shouldn't I?" Harry asked bewildered.

Ginny simply turned and walked away.

"Wait! Do we know each other? I-…Damn," groaned Harry as Ginny gave no indication that she even noticed he was still there.

He stood there, trying to make sense of what she had said. She had clearly said ' _you'_ and they had been alone so it could only have been Harry she was talking about. Did this mean she _did_ know him? But why wouldn't she say so? Besides, what she had said didn't make any sense. Everyone talked.

Harry grabbed his equipment and left, but he didn't head towards the stairs, instead, he turned and went to the dungeons. He needed to know more about Ginny.

He knocked at Snape's door and after a pause he knocked again, just to make sure Snape knew he couldn't ignore him.

The door opened, revealing Snape's scowling face. The scowl deepened as he saw Harry.

"I didn't order a cleaning commission."

Harry waved his comment away. "Those are for me. What is wrong with Ginny?"

"I have other things to do than re-telling the personal histories of our group members Potter."

"Ginny Weasley."

Snape paused, frowned at him, and then motioned him inside.

"Not every redhead has to be a Weasley."

"It's not just the hair," explained Harry. "It's the face as well. You didn't really have a chance to look at the twins, but I saw them twice. And her age fits."

Snape turned to one of his shelves, selecting a few jars while continuing the conversation. "I'm not sure if this just keeps getting worse or more interesting."

"Worse obviously. If the twins find her here…" Harry trailed off at a loss for words.

"We didn't kidnap her Potter. If anything, Lucius saved her. She's free to go at any time, though I don't think she would stand a chance alone in the world."

Harry shrugged unconvinced. "But there's clearly something…not right with her. She barely talks!"

Snape went to a big wooden table, starting to mix several herbs in a mortar and began to crush them methodically.

"She shows all the signs of posttraumatic stress disorder."

"Err…That's when something bad has happened to you, right?"

Snape threw him a blank look. "Ah yes. I imagine you aren't too familiar with psychological disorders, seeing how you grew up in the new world."

Harry shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned, everyone around me is slightly cracked."

"Careful Potter. If everyone around you is strange, you might have to consider that they are normal and you are the strange one."

"Oh," he realized. "That's…disturbing."

"But in this case you do have a point. After the chaos no one came out one hundred percent sane. So all the veterans have at least a mild case of PTSD. It comes from going through truly horrible times. In Ginny's case I'd say it stems from one particular experience, leaving her scarred beyond repair and barely functioning."

"What part of that is interesting?" asked Harry troubled.

"Whatever it is that has happened to her in the past, there is a good chance it has happened to you too."

Harr groaned. "And the twins as well, of course! But I can't even remember such an important experience…"

"She most likely can't either. It's the mind's way of dealing with terrible memories."

"It would explain my lost memories," agreed Harry reluctantly. "But it would also mean that I should be in the same state as her right?"

"Not necessarily. People are different after all. Maybe you're just a particular case of indestructible weed."

"Ha bloody ha."

Snape poured some other things into his mortar before mixing again. "Are you sure you have time to worry about her?"

"Huh?" made Harry distraught. He had been staring at Snape's handiwork, trying to discern the different ingredients and what the paste would be for in the end.

"You don't want to find out what happens if you can't meet the lord's demands."

Harry glanced outside at the slowly growing shadows. "Yes, yes I'll go already."

He picked up his equipment again and left Snape to his own work.

Going up the stairs with the additional weight almost made him rethink his choice of living arrangements. Or maybe he should just train his body more…Though if Riddle's first request was anything to go by, he would be happy to have enough time to _sleep_.

He arrived at the fifth floor, when he almost bumped into another member.

"Hold it, sleeping beauty!"

The man was tall, brown-haired and had a truly unpleasant smile.

"What?"

"Aahh, a lost generation, I almost forgot." He paused to look him up and down. "Actually no, I haven't."

What the hell?

"And you are?" asked Harry, barely keeping the annoyance out of his voice.

"Evan Rosier," he grinned and held his hand out. Harry's hands were all full though, so he just stared at it until Rosier put it down again.

"So, who woke you?"

"The sun," answered Harry deadpan, trying to get past him.

"Aahh," sighed Rosier again. "No, no. See, the sleeping beauty is a princess that fell into a century long slumber and could only be awoken by true love's kiss."

Harry shortly tried to find any explanation why Rosier would tell him that, before disregarding it as pointless.

"Scientifically impossible," he replied curtly.

"Tsk. You're not one for romance are you?"

Harry scowled at him. "I am under time pressure, so if you could just move…"

Rosier shook his head in contemplation. "And here I almost believed Bella…"

"I don't think listening to Bellatrix will ever be helpful, but good luck."

"Hah! Well I think I might just _like_ you."

Rosier leaned forward, causing Harry to take a step back in order to avoid touching him.

"Great. Now can you move?"

"So impatient…It's almost cute."

What. The. Fuck.

He took a deep breath and glared at Rosier. "May I tell lord Voldemort that it was you who kept me from getting him the requested device?"

As he had thought, mentioning Riddle did the trick.

Rosier's smile vanished and he straightened. "I wouldn't dream of it."

He let him pass and Harry hurried up the stairs, away from him.

Finally safe in his rooms, he decided to let Hedwig out of her cage. He was a bit worried that the owl might not return to him, but if he planned to use her to send messages, she would have to find back on her own anyway. She was a bit disgruntled at being woken up at day, but seemed happy to be free.

After watching her fly away, Harry rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

.

* * *

.

He did feel a strange sense of accomplishment when finishing the device in time. Like he had done a good job.

He squashed the feeling immediately.

The common room and one of the smaller dormitories was completely clean. He would get to the others when he had more time. For now, this was all he needed.

The sun had almost completely disappeared by the time Harry exited the castle. He had hoped he would be punctual this time, but found that 'old willow' was a shitty clue if you stomped completely lost around the big castle.

Seriously, somebody ought to care for the newbies.

He saw the gathered group before he saw the tree. Luckily, this time they didn't look quite as murderous, so Harry guessed he was still on time.

He jogged up to Riddle, handing him his device. "Here. I really don't know why you would need one now though."

Riddle took it and inspected it shortly. Then he pointed it at Harry.

In retrospect, he should have expected it, but the pain still caught him completely off guard. It lasted only an instant, more of a shock than the torture he had put Riddle under, but it was enough to send him to the ground with a startled cry.

"What the hell was that for?" he panted.

"Why, I needed to test it of course," explained Riddle nonchalantly.

Harry glowered at him. They both knew Harry's devices didn't need testing.

He gathered himself up a bit shakily, while Riddle gestured to one of the followers.

"This is Thorfinn Rowle."

Harry glanced between the big man and Riddle. Rowle looked scared.

"Err…Hi?" Harry said uncertainly, not understanding what was expected from him.

"Several weeks ago, I gave Rowle an order," Riddle told the assembled group. "To keep Nagini confined in one wing of the castle until I returned."

"My lord!" cried Rowle dismayed and threw himself in front of Riddle. "I did so my lord! I checked every day! I don't know how-…"

Riddle silenced him with a withering look.

"Rowle's…inadequacy…endangered both Draco and our newest member. Not only that, but Rowle failed to carry out my simple order," continued Riddle coldly. "Tell me, child, what happens to someone who fails?"

It took Harry a few seconds to realize Riddle was asking him. He had been too shocked by the scared man on the ground and the cold eyes of the other followers.

"Umm…Remind him not to do it again?"

Riddle turned to him with an amused smirk, which seemed utterly inappropriate considering the circumstances.

"My, but you have a _long_ way to go child…Bella?"

"Kill him my lord!" suggested Bellatrix eagerly, a mad glint in her eyes.

"Ah…" Riddle tilted his head in contemplation. "Should I kill you, Rowle?"

"I-…M-my lord, please…"

"But I've fed you for months now. It seems like a waste of resources… No, I think the hole will be a sufficient reminder."

Everyone stirred eagerly at that and Harry assumed it referred to a common punishment.

"Th-thank you my lord! You are most merciful, I will-…"

"With certain modifications this time," interrupted Riddle casually and glanced at the device in his hands.

Harry felt nauseous. Rowle paled and seemed at a complete loss for words.

At a wave from Riddle, two other members dragged Rowle up and pulled him a few meters away, where Harry saw another man began to dig a hole into the ground.

"Why do you have to bury him as well?" Harry asked tonelessly.

"I'm not going to stand here all night, pointing at him," answered Riddle as if it were obvious.

"All _night_?! Are you-..." Harry barely kept himself from calling Riddle insane in front of the whole group. "You'll kill him."

"I won't. The pain is imaginary after all, he'll come out completely intact."

Harry clenched his fists furiously. "His body maybe. His mind won't sustain the torture!"

"It will if he's strong enough."

"That's a load of bullshit! Constant stimulation will damage his brain permanently!"

Riddle's expression turned dark. "Do not contradict me _Harry_."

He probably should have taken the warning. But he just couldn't.

"Somebody has to," he hissed venomously.

Riddle actually scowled at that. "Should I tell Mcnair to prepare a second hole?"

His menacing tone was enough to make everyone else around them take a step back.

Harry set his jaw and glared up at him. "Do what you want."

"I always do what I want silly child," replied Riddle grimly. "Mcnair! Make that two holes! And let that one in for 24 hours."

Harry didn't resist as they dragged him away.

It had been a stupid move to oppose Riddle so publicly. But damn it all, Harry was fuming. His inventions weren't supposed to be used as something as petty as unjust punishments. Riddle could rot in hell for all he cared.

Apparently Harry would do a lot of rotting on his own tonight.

His only consolidation was that Riddle only had _one_ torture device. He would have to listen to Rowle's screams for hours though. He hoped for both of them that the man would pass out soon.

Rowle's hole was finished, and as they began to bury him up to the neck in the ground, Snape came over to Harry.

"Quite the ingenious plan Potter." He sounded like he actually meant it.

"Plan?" echoed Harry distraught.

Snape frowned. "To fall publicly form Voldemort's good graces..?"

Harry blinked at him.

"It will dispel quite a bit of the animosity towards your person," continued Snape.

"Uuhhm…"

"You didn't plan that at all did you?" he sneered.

"Well, now that you mention it…"

Snape scowled and stormed off, muttering something about wasted intelligence.

Harry climbed into the second finished hole on his own, letting Mcnair shovel dirt over him. As the hole was filled up, Harry realized in panic that he hadn't even enough space to take a deep breath.

He muttered a curse as he tried to calm himself. The weight of the earth pressed against him everywhere and it was easily one of the most uncomfortable situations he had been in so far. But there was no way he would let any of that show on his face.

"Maybe I'll come and visit you tomorrow," told him Rosier cheerfully.

"Lovely," he pressed out.

"We could play kick the can together."

"I don't think a lost generation knows what that is Evan," interjected another, earning a laugh from the men around him.

Harry glared up at them, but he knew in his position it must look ridiculous.

Riddle advanced and they fell silent.

"Now that you're both comfortable," he began, while the others jeered, "I wish you a good night. May you reflect on your mistakes."

He put the device down in front of Rowle and switched it on.

Only a few seconds later, Rowle's pained screams pierced the night.

.


	27. Chapter 27

Rowle did not lose consciousness even once. Apparently the direct stimulation of his brain did not allow such a relief.

Seven hells, how did his subconsciousness come up with such a horrendous idea? Blackouts or not, Harry got the distinct feeling that there had to be something deeply wrong with him.

There definitely was something wrong with the other members of the group. Harry was certain Rowle's screams of pure agony could be clearly heard within Hogwarts, yet no one did anything. If anything, it probably sounded like a lullaby to Bella's ears.

The pained screams did not falter once, the sheer lengths and intensity of them probably slowly tearing Rowle's vocal chords apart. Harry feared the man would suffocate. Even he had trouble breathing, and he wasn't screaming like a maniac.

It seemed like an eternity before the dark night slowly faded into a grey morning.

Another wave of hot anger crashed over Harry when he saw that Voldemort didn't even show up to terminate Rowle's torture.

How was it even possible for someone like Riddle to be such a lousy lord? Men lay prostrate before him if he so much as looked in their direction! A displeased scowl was all he needed to properly punish his fanatic followers. But no, let's turn them into a fucking vegetable instead.

While several men started to dig out the now unconscious Rowle, Snape approached Harry. He looked tired, though he hid it well.

"Rough night?" Harry bit out.

Snape only scowled down at him. "Is there anything you know about alleviating the long term effects of the device?"

Harry started to shrug, only to realize he couldn't move his shoulders at all. "Rest and a lot of sleep is our best bet I think."

"You don't sound very hopeful."

"I'm not."

Snape regarded him dispassionately. "You will stay in your hole until this evening, then your 24 hours will be over."

"Fabulous," he grumbled. "So, have I fallen enough from his good graces yet to be safe from jealous group members?"

"It would be more efficient if our lord's mood didn't border on sulking."

" _He_ sulks?! Why would he have any reason to be in a bad mood? I'm the one stuck in the freaking ground!" exclaimed Harry outraged.

"Your ignorance is appalling Potter."

"Huh?!"

Snape graced him with his sneer before leaving him.

Well that went swimmingly.

Why was it his fault that Riddle was sulking? If anything the bastard should be in high spirits.

He watched as the others dragged the lifeless form of Thorfinn Rowle away, leaving Harry alone with an itching nose, and no means to scratch himself.

It began to rain.

Of course. What else with his luck?

At first he thought maybe the softened earth would allow him to get out of his confinement, but he soon realised his attempts only made him sink further into the ground.

Then he tried to sleep somewhat, but he jerked awake after a few seconds, feeling as if he were drowning.

The wet ground also brought forth a disgusting amount of worms, who apparently tried to decide whether Harry's body would make a nice new home or not.

The heavy rain at least prevented others to come outside and taunt him. Even Rosier stayed absent, for which Harry was eternally grateful. He didn't know what to make of the other and being buried up to his neck in earth was not how he wished to deal with him.

He observed dully how the shadows grew infinitely slowly longer, how the rain decreased and increased in intensity, how his need to scratch his nose grew and how his mind calmed down and cleared.

Apparently, being stuck for 24 hours in the ground had the same effect as meditation. Not that Harry had ever meditated before, he wasn't the type to sit still for long. But now that he was actually forced to, he found the results rather interesting.

He wasn't even furious anymore, he felt steady, strong, _certain_. He wasn't sure of what he was certain of, but it felt nice nonetheless.

He was yanked out of his peculiar state of mind when he realized it was already getting dark again. The past few hours had practically slipped by unnoticed, a welcome change after the agonizing slow hours before that.

The same group of people that had dug Rowle out came to get him – and oh look, even Riddle had deemed him worthy enough to sacrifice some of his precious time to come and gloat.

Strangely enough the lord kept silent as they hauled Harry out of the earth.

Even covered in mud, weak from lack of drinking or eating and freezing from the rain, Harry still remained halfway in his dangerously calm state.

His face was expressionless as he patted the worst of the mud from his body.

Riddle opened his mouth, doubtlessly to make some sort of smug comment.

"Don't you dare," hissed Harry venomously, yet calm.

Something in his voice seemed to stun Riddle momentarily.

With an icy look in his direction, Harry simply turned around and left, knowing full well that he hadn't been dismissed.

.

* * *

.

Harry stayed isolated in his rooms for the following days. He liked to imagine that the rest of the group searched for him, but couldn't find the hidden dorm. They'd probably kill him once they did.

During the nights, he sneaked into the kitchen and brought some food back. His own behaviour struck him as silly, after all, the castle should be his home, but he wasn't ready to face anyone yet. He needed a time out.

So he worked on a few projects, cleaned up some more and slept in the comfortable bed. He felt almost as peaceful as in his old home.

Until the knocking started.

It was the early afternoon of his fourth day in isolation, when someone knocked on the painting that led to the dorms.

Someone was actually _knocking_ at a painting.

Harry was so stunned that he almost forgot he needed to pretend not to be here.

"Potter, I know you're in there! The only reason why I'm not already dragging you out is because I like my limbs attached to my body and your inventions are rumoured to change that fact."

Snape had left his dungeons and climbed all the way up here?! And how did he-

"I've followed you back last night, you idiotic boy. Now come out, I don't have the time to deal with your insolence."

He did sound slightly strained. Odd, the man usually was immune to stress.

"There aren't any traps," he told him, not moving from his position on the couch.

Seconds later, Snape was looming over him.

"What?" Harry asked gruffly.

"I don't care if you behave like a hormonal teenager, Potter. As long as you aren't dragging the whole group down with your tantrum."

Harry gaped at him. "Tantrum?! I just want to be left alone!"

"What you want is of no consequence, you started this, you stop it."

"Stop what?"

Snape hesitated for a moment. "Voldemort. He's…insufferable."

"Tell me something I don't know," he snorted.

"No Potter, not like that. He's reverting back to the state he was in when I first met him."

Harry squirmed uncomfortable. From what Snape had told him in London, the Voldemort he had met at the inn was nothing compared to the lunatic the lord had been a few months before.

Snape continued. "He is irritated. It hasn't been that bad for a very long time. Demanding, cruel, displeased…Even Bellatrix tries to keep her distance."

"What the hell does that have to do with me?" asked Harry disgruntled, trying to hide his unease.

"Everything you dunderhead. You think the way he acts around you is normal? You can make him _laugh_ of all things, Potter. Like a human."

"So what? You expect me to go down and tame the beast?"

Snape silently stared at him.

Harry stared right back before realization dawned on him. "Holy shit you're actually thinking I can stop him don't you? And here I thought you were the sensible one!"

"You did it once before."

Harry jumped up from the couch and paced the room agitated.

"That was-… I mean- he had a reason…kind of. His rage was directed towards you and I just…talked him out of it. That's not the same as appeasing him when he's been like that for days!"

"Potter, he ordered Jugson to be whipped today for dropping a _fork_ at breakfast. He has assembled the group once again by the old willow."

Harry saw red. "For the love of..! That fucking _bastard_!"

Almost blind with fury he stormed past Snape and out of the dorms.

He didn't have a plan, he didn't have a goal and he was probably running to his own death, but bloody hell he would not work under Voldemort if the lord didn't learn some decency first. Punishments he could live with, even corporal ones, but not if they were handed out without at least the pretence of a reason.

The sight under the willow was much the same as it had been several days ago. The group stood attentive around their lord. The poor man named Jugson had been strapped to the tree and McNair looked ready to start flogging him with a makeshift whip.

No one saw Harry approaching from behind. That is, until he started yelling, throwing all caution to the wind.

"YOU!" he accused the nonplussed lord, "You're a shitty excuse of a lord, Riddle, do you know that?!"

He whirled around, glaring at McNair. "And just what the hell do you think you're doing?! Cut off that man's bindings _now_!"

McNair was almost three heads taller than him, but the man took a flabbergasted step back from his pure vehemence. His eyes darted uncertainly to Riddle. Harry didn't allow him to get any reassurance.

"Well?!"

Slightly dazed, McNair hurried towards Jugson.

"And you!" he addressed the nearest member, his voice dangerously low. "Where is the device that was used on Rowle? Where is _my_ device?"

Too shocked for words, the man simply pointed at Rosier. Harry spun in his direction.

"Destroy it!"

"But-…"

"I _said_ destroy it!"

Rosier let the device fall to the ground and crushed it with his foot. Harry let out a long breath before glaring at the assembled members again.

"It's just past noon! You're telling me you don't have better things to do? There are rooms to clean, fields to be attended to and for fuck's sake someone draw me a map of this castle! Well, get going, we have a challenge to prepare for! Get the fuck out of my sight!"

Taken aback by his outburst and without a word from their lord to contradict him, they scurried off.

"Now you," Harry hissed at Riddle, not even trying to decipher the look on the lord's face. "Don't even think I'm going to build you any more things without knowing the complete plan beforehand. Last warning _Tom_ , or the next device from me will explode in your hands!"

Scowling, he folded his arms and let out an annoyed huff.

Riddle's arm jerked slightly, as if he wanted to reach out and touch him. Instead, he made a sweeping gesture to the receding members.

"So…" he began. He sounded surprisingly reasonable. "I bury you for a day and you set out to steal my followers?"

"Oh _now_ you're possessive!" Harry fumed. "I'm sorry, you made it look as if you didn't care about them at all. You're doing a fucking horrible job! You can turn them into a submissive pile of goo with a smile, yet you chose brute force. It's pathetic! Unacceptable! Inexcusable!"

It slowly dawned on Harry that he was scolding Riddle like a small child.

And he had called him Tom.

Woah, he was so going to die.

"...Your anger is strangely arousing."

Harry threw his hands up. "You've _got_ to be kidding me!"

"No really, you look so fierce when you go all authoritative _Harry_."

Harry shot him a venomous look, hoping it would hide his confusion.

Riddle's behaviour was much different than Snape's description. He didn't seem out of control, if anything he appeared to be good-natured. He had taken Harry's rant and insults without even a frown and didn't seem to mind how Harry had undermined his power in front of the whole group.

Had Snape lied? The man would certainly be capable enough. A trick to end his isolation?

"For what reason did you want him whipped?"

Riddle made a motion as if to chase away an annoying fly. "Irritation."

Harry frowned in displeasure. Snape hadn't lied then, Riddle was really handing out completely unnecessary punishments. But instead of the raging beast Harry had expected, Riddle was calm and had a higher tolerance for his impudence than usual.

_You think the way he acts around you is normal?_

Well…no. He had realised Riddle's playfulness early on, later he had found the reason for it. But pure lust shouldn't allow him to ignore Riddle for days, let alone curse and scold him in front of his followers.

There had to be something more, but Harry wasn't ready to belief Riddle was capable of anything more. Was Harry capable of more? Hell, he didn't even know if he was ready for whatever it was that they started.

"Don't think this is over! Just you wait, I'll wipe that smug smirk off your pretty face if it's the last thing I'm doing!"

"Pretty hm?" smirked Riddle pleased.

"Were you listening to anything I said?!"

Riddle made an offhanded gesture. "Yes. Complete plans. I'll let you in on all my secret scheming…" He reached out and his fingers curled around the back of Harry's neck. " _If_ you do the same."

Harry kept his expression carefully blank. "I don't know what you-…"

"Come now child, do you think I'm daft?"

He obviously wasn't. And he had probably been waiting patiently for the right time to elicit all of Harry's secrets. No wonder Riddle had never pushed the issue about Harry's knowledge of the apples and the murders, he had been certain Harry would have to spill his information in no time.

"You're…abnormal," Harry answered his question.

Riddle chuckled. "Was that a compliment or an insult?"

Harry shot him another glare. "I'm not sure yet…"

They stared at each other for a long time before Riddle broke eye contact. Harry silently cheered at that.

"Don't miss any more meals. We need to integrate you in our group…If that's still possible after your display earlier."

"Well maybe letting a newbie sit at the head table wasn't your best idea," remarked Harry drily.

"You've defeated lord Fudge, brought lord Lupin under my control and initiated a friendship with lady Luna. You've already earned yourself more privilege than the rest of my followers together. If they have a problem with my decisions, they can bring it up to me."

"So you can torture them _my lord_?" asked Harry scathingly. "I think you failed to realise how that might be a bit of a deterrent for most people."

"They need a strong hand to guide them, but," he conceded, "Maybe they also need some positive reinforcement. You could take on that job - oh wait, you practically made them piss themselves today." He sounded amused.

Harry bristled at the formulation. "I- that-…Only because you're going around and- and…use your followers to…satisfy your sadism!"

"Hmm, I guess then you just have to stick around and entertain me enough to cover up my irritation."

And what if he wasn't entertaining enough anymore? Harry didn't want to think about it.

"It's not my job to entertain you," he grumbled.

Riddle grinned widely. Oh hell.

"Well I hope you use the rest of the day in a more productive way, whatever that may mean for a lord."

He turned to leave but Riddle held him back.

"Where do you sleep _Harry_?"

Ha! So he really hadn't known.

"None of your business."

Riddle's eyebrows rose sceptically. "I know Snape must have found you. I shall take great pleasure in getting the information out of him."

Harry scowled at him. "Screw you! Fine, the dorms on the seventh floor, have fun finding them."

He didn't doubt Riddle would find them, but he hoped it would give him at least some trouble.

Satisfied, Riddle let go of him and Harry stormed off.

He was still somewhat irritated, but he had to admit Riddle's docile manner took the wind out of his sails. When the lord was his usual taunting and smirking self, it made it hard for Harry to connect him to the brutal man he had seen.

Still, he knew Riddle would never be amiable. He had known that from the first moment he had met him. And even so Harry had fought with him, followed him, wanted him - no he wouldn't think about that just yet.

It was just his luck again to bump into Rosier on his way up.

"So…Bella might have been right after all." Rosier looked at him in contemplation.

"About what?" asked Harry, warily. Rosier's behaviour seemed different from last time.

"About you."

No shit.

"And what about me does she think she knows?"

Rosier showed him a nasty grin. "Obviously something you haven't figured out yet."

"How helpful. Now if you're done wasting my time _again_ -…"

"I just wonder what he sees in you."

Harry's mind and body both froze on the spot.

Rosier observed him closely. "Ah, don't get me wrong, _I_ see plenty in you. But our lord's tastes…well. To be honest I wasn't sure he _had_ tastes. If you catch my meaning."

The worst part about his situation was that he did, in fact, understand Rosier's implication. He wasn't even shocked that Rosier hinted at a sexual relationship between Harry and Riddle, he was too busy being furious at the mere suggestion that he was obediently waiting around for Riddle to do whatever he pleased.

"Not in the least. I'm not a meal," spat Harry.

"Are you sure?"

What the fuck was wrong with this group? Why did everyone assume Harry was just their new plaything Riddle brought home? And what the fuck was Bella doing, spreading rumours about his…association…with Riddle?

Now that he thought about it, did Riddle ask her directly for these books? What must have been going on in her mind when her lord asked her for porn books?

Involuntarily, Harry flushed crimson.

"Not sure then," grinned Rosier, drawing all the wrong conclusions from Harry's flush.

Harry fixed him with a withering look. "Look, I don't know where you lot gets all those ideas, but I'm here for reasons much like everyone else's. I didn't expect a warm welcome, but I'll have you know that I hate people who are intruding on my personal affairs. So whatever the hell you're insinuating, stop."

Rosier held up his hands appeasingly. "Believe me, after today no one assumes you're a helpless little damsel in distress. But let me give you a friendly tip, as a fellow member 'kay? If you're trying to keep down the rumours, playing lordling isn't the way to go."

Harry stiffened. "Playing what? I was trying to stop the whipping! One might think at least one guy would be thankful for that!"

"The problem about your try is that you succeeded and survived. Just to make sure, you'd rescue me as well right?" Rosier winked at him conspiratorially.

"Don't count on it."

"Ha! I like you more and more lordling."

"Stop calling me that," ordered Harry sourly.

"Well you can't be our prince. That would mean you're the eventual successor. So you'll have to be our dear lordling."

Harry could feel a headache approaching. Rosier's logic resembled Bellatrix way too much for his liking. "What does it even mean?"

"Lordling? A little lord, or young lord…Something like that. It was Bella's idea."

Of course it was.

Harry's dark mood must have shown on his face, because Rosier sobered up a bit.

"Hey it's a show of respect, not an insult. _I_ knew there was something about you from the start. But it's hard to impress us, you should feel honoured."

Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of that. On one hand it seemed as if his little stunt had earned him some respect and thus probably increased his survival chance.

On the other hand he had gotten stuck with weird expectations and a ridiculous title. He damn well hoped it wasn't an official one.

"Anyways, if it shouldn't work out with our lord, I'd be more than happy to fill in. Though I'm not about to do anything if what I hear is correct. Ah, judging from your confused look you have no idea what I'm talking about. Oh my, this is surprisingly fun."

"What the-…"

"I must bid my goodbye now lordling, someone ordered me, or rather _urged_ me, to prepare for a challenge."

Watching him go, Harry realized he hadn't gotten anything out of the conversation while Rosier practically had all the confirmation he needed. It was an unkind reminder that everyone here had been handpicked by Riddle. He would need to keep his guard up next time.

He headed to what Draco had called the Hospital wing. He wanted to see if there was anything he could do for the tortured man.

Rowle lay unmoving on one of the beds in the middle of the elongated room. Snape was weighing several parts of plants on a small scale next to him.

He looked up when Harry entered and assessed him coolly. "Lordling."

"Oh not you too!" cried Harry in real dismay.

"Bellatrix was quite ecstatic about it."

"Don't. Just don't," groaned Harry.

He walked closer to Rowle's lifeless form. "Has he woken up at all?"

"He does so quite frequently, though he doesn't do anything besides staring into space."

Harry clenched his fists. Being confronted with the results of that horrible night made him want to punch the living crap out of Riddle. Actually he always felt like punching him, but the feeling definitely intensified.

"You can make yourself useful and hand me the jar of honey there," Snape gestured vaguely while frowning at a heavy book in concentration.

Harry looked around him for some kind of shelf like there were so many in Snape's quarters, but didn't see anything besides more empty beds.

Snape turned around and sneered at him. "It's right next to you Potter, one could think you didn't have any eyes."

Too used to his insults to feel offended, Harry simply handed him the jar that indeed had been on the table not far from him. But how should he have known that?

Snape however had suddenly turned thoughtful. His dark eyes scrutinized him like Harry was one of his lab rats. Harry guessed that in a way, he was one.

"Did you really not see that?"

Harry looked back to the table and shrugged. "It's too far away."

"Too far? That's five meters at best!"

Snape stood up and went to the strange white poster Harry had observed when he had come here with Draco.

"In what direction does that E point?"

"Left?" asked Harry puzzled.

Snape pointed to another one.

"Up," he said dutifully. "Right, left, left, down, right, down, up…"

Snape watched him sceptically. "That one was in the last line, even people with perfect eyes have trouble reading that."

"Read them?! Are you serious? I can't decipher anything from the third line down!"

"Then how did you…There's no way you guessed them all correctly Potter."

"Draco brought me here when he showed me around. I thought the symbols on that poster were strange so I tried to guess their meaning. They're used to test one's sight then? Is that method accurate?"

Snape was too taken aback to answer his questions. "So what, you just memorized them all?"

Harry shrugged again. "Not consciously."

Snape scowled at him. "Has it always been like this? Intelligence does not equal an extraordinary memory. At least not to such an extent."

"What do you mean has it always been like this? Are you implying my condition is worsening?" asked Harry alarmed.

"That depends on how you define worse. And in your case I wouldn't be surprised about anything."

Snape pulled a small box from one of the cupboards. "Your father's eyesight was dreadful, I suspected you suffer from a similar fate. Here, try some of these on. We don't know what their correction is, but as long as they don't give you a headache it should be an improvement."

There were several more or less intact glasses in the box.

"It's that bad? I mean, I was doing fine without them until now."

With his luck they would be broken by tomorrow, it seemed a waste of something so elaborately made.

Nonetheless he grabbed a pair and put them on. He was hit with a wave of nausea as everything seemed to morph out of proportions.

"Ugh. Nope."

After a few more unsuccessful tries, a bland pair of black glasses seemed to fit him. Harry had to confess that he was astonished at how clearly the world suddenly looked.

"Huh. That's actually quite awesome."

It was a wonder how he had never realized how bad his eyesight was. He guessed it must have been because he never had anything to compare. You can't miss what you don't have.

"Try not to break them within a week. Most people do not wear glasses anymore because they couldn't find a replacement for their old pair. These are just the remnants we found here at Hogwarts or on corpses."

Harry grimaced at the image and his glasses slipped slightly off his nose. He pushed them back hastily.

This would become a tick in no time wouldn't it?

He glanced at Rowle again. "I'll try to come up with something that could stimulate his brain in a more…positive…way. But to be honest I'm not sure that would do him any good now. It seems just as likely that he'll get over it on his own... Or never."

"I reckon it's worth a try. None of my methods have produced any notable results so far."

"So…Any more results regarding my case?" Harry asked, hopeful and nervous at the same time.

Snape's scowl deepened. "Inconclusive."

"Err…What do you mean inconclusive?"

"It means Potter, that all my tests with the recreated drug point to the same conclusion that cannot possibly be right." Snape sounded irritated, as if he took personal offence in the fact that his tests didn't work out.

"And that conclusion would be..?"

Snape looked up from his work to face him fully again. "You should be practically brain dead. Which obviously you are not, unless you count my personal opinion."

With that, Harry was ushered out of the room, with nothing but the promise of further tests which would hopefully lead to a more plausible conclusion.

He trudged back to his dorms, marvelling at his clear vision while his thoughts blurred with questions.

Maybe it was because he was so deep in thought that he didn't notice the lord until he almost sat on him.

"Riddle!" he jumped up from the coach as if it had burnt him. "I-wha-…That was fast."

"If you've lived in Hogwarts long enough, entrances behind paintings won't surprise you anymore."

Riddle made a show of looking around while lounging on Harry's couch. "I have to commend you for your choice, it is quite nice here. Although I personally prefer it a bit…darker."

"Of course you do," replied Harry deadpan.

"Really, all that red is appalling."

" _I_ like it. What's wrong with red?"

"I prefer green."

"You're eyes are red," pointed Harry out. It had bothered him since their first meeting. Who the hell had red eyes, but dark hair?

"And yours are green," mused Riddle. "How curious, don't you think?"

At least green was a nor-…Oh because of their preferred colour.

Riddle gracefully stood up and closed in on him. Harry swore silently. He was not yet prepared to let Riddle get so close again, not after Rowle, not after being stuck in a hole for giving sound advice.

He was still too pissed off about the lord's irrational behaviour, and even so he couldn't bring himself to back down.

There was always something that pulled him towards Riddle, yet pushed him away just as fiercely. Harry wondered whether he would ever be able to resolve that internal conflict.

"Hmm…" Riddle leaned forward so their faces were on the same height. As usual, he was way too close for Harry's comfort.

Riddle reached out and almost gently pulled his glasses off. Harry flinched at the light brush of his fingers. He blinked owlishly as his vision blurred considerably.

Riddle smirked and put the glasses back in place.

"Go figure. They suit you _lordling_."

"I hate you," he snapped back. The bastard made it sound as if everything Harry did was just to please him.

Riddle leaned even closer, their lips almost brushing. Harry stiffened as his pulse sped up to unhealthy levels. He had forgotten how intoxicating this closeness was.

"Are you sure?" murmured Riddle, his breath tickling Harry's face.

The most annoying thing was that despite everything, he did not know the answer.

He hissed and pushed the lord forcefully away, earning him nothing but a chuckle.

Riddle straightened and thankfully made his way to the exit.

"I expect you at dinner and after that in my study. I have been far too lenient with you these past few days."

"What for?" asked Harry annoyed, swallowing several unwise curses regarding Riddle's 'leniency'.

"To continue where we left off obviously. We never got to finish your reading material. And we were just about to get some practi-…"

Harry threw a pillow after him.

He fucking _hated_ that bastard.

.


	28. Chapter 28

By the time Harry went down for dinner, almost everyone was sitting at the tables already. At least this time he was punctual. He had no wish to repeat the awkward moments of his first official breakfast.

He glanced up at the head table and saw that the chair next to Riddle was once again reserved for him. His eyes met Riddle's reluctantly.

At first, Harry had wanted to ignore dinner once again, even after Riddle had ordered him explicitly to attend. He didn't want to give in to Riddle, but concluded that his brooding absence made him look like a pouting child. Besides, it seemed as if his continued absence had fuelled the most ridiculous rumours among the other members.

The lord haughtily raised his glass to him, his expression almost gloating. He looked so incredibly pleased about how everything went exactly according to his will that Harry felt the need to gag.

Well fuck that bastard.

On a whim, Harry turned and sat down at the nearest table.

He had been ordered to attend dinner, but Riddle had never specified where he should sit. A place at the head table was seen as a privilege, but that didn't mean one had to accept it right?

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" whispered a shocked voice next to him.

Harry turned his head and realized he had positioned himself right next to Rosier. Great.

"Eating," he replied, trying to ignore the piercing scowl Riddle directed at him.

Rosier looked at him sceptically, then grinned nervously. "You must have nerves of steel lordling."

"An empty stomach is all I have. Can we eat yet, or are we still waiting for our _master_ to begin?" He didn't bother to hide the sarcasm.

"Maybe our lord would be more inclined to begin his meal if everyone would sit where he belonged," Rosier pointed out. The man was obviously slightly uncomfortable to get dragged into Harry's feud with his lord.

Harry gave him a sharp smile. "Why, I thought I was sitting with my fellow members, whatever could be wrong with that?"

"And what is my favourite newbie doing now?" interrupted Bellatrix and promptly sat to the other side of Harry.

"Go away," groaned Harry. This sitting order was turning out to be almost as bad as the designated one.

"So rude," chirped Bellatrix unaffected, then leaned over to Rosier. "Evan, I thought I gave you a fair warning. Don't come running to me when our lord wants your head."

" _He_ sat next to _me_ ," protested Rosier. Then his expression suddenly turned even more concerned. "Wait, actually that's even worse."

"What the hell are you talking about?" scowled Harry.

Bella cackled delighted, before leaning towards Rosier. "His lack of respect takes some time to get used to, but he's positively adorable isn't he?"

"The fuck I am!"

"Oh, dinner started!" Bellatrix clapped delighted and began to fill her plate.

Harry glanced to the head table and saw Riddle rigidly eating his food while his eyes stayed trained on Harry.

"Why is he sending me the death glare, while he doesn't seem to mind you sitting here?" he asked Bella darkly.

"Our motives for doing so are entirely different dearie."

"He's not looking at me is he?" asked Rosier nervously.

"Why would he be mad at _you_?" inquired Harry at the same time that Bella answered, "Nope, he's all eyes for our lordling."

Harry rolled his eyes exasperated and decided to let it go. Instead, he began to load his plate with food.

"So, lordling…" a new voice from across Harry spoke up. "Where did you come from?"

Harry glared at the expectant men across from him. He hated small talk with a passion.

"My mother's womb. I much preferred it over this place here. Especially because it was so _quiet_."

The men stared at him, probably trying their best to figure out whether he was joking or not. One of them laughed uncertainly. "He's got a bit of a Snape in him, eh?"

Harry's eyes widened comically. Snape would die of shame if he knew people compared him to Harry.

Bella of course thought the comment to be hilarious.

The rest of the evening passed in a similar fashion. People would come and sit across from Harry, exchanging a few words before leaving again. It was obvious they were curious about him.

Rosier pointed out that all of them appeared to be on their best behaviour, normally new members were given a much tougher time. This led to a heated conversation with a few other members about the question whether Harry in fact still counted as a newbie or not.

Harry was tired of it all. No matter if he was polite or insulting, he wasn't able to escape the tedious small talk.

The only reason why he was staying where he was, was because he didn't want Riddle to know how much he regretted his choice. He didn't want to admit it, but a nagging voice in his head told him he enjoyed the lord's presence considerably more compared to the snooping members.

The conversations he had with Riddle always managed to sharpen his mind and constantly keep him on his toes. Each of his remarks was countered effortlessly with an equally witty comeback.

The people who came to inquire various things about him simply accepted his answers, judging him, and as soon as they thought they had a picture of his character they stood up and left. None of them saw through him like Riddle did so easily.

He was surprised to admit that the only real entertainment came from his two neighbours.

Rosier provided him with a quick background on each of the members that came to speak with him, and often explained their motives behind certain statements like a fluent translator.

Bellatrix on the other hand used him to create havoc among the members. She instigated him to take on different personalities for different members. At first Harry didn't see the point and only did it to humour her, but soon the first signs of confusion could be seen among the group.

Since everyone had only had a vague idea about Harry's character, each new piece of information was soaked up eagerly. However, due to Bella's idea, each member came back with contradictory information about his personality. Some came to know him as polite and well-spoken, others thought him rude and disrespectful, while others claimed he was just shy.

It reminded Harry of the game he played at the ball, feeding ridiculous rumours about lord Voldemort to the people. Only this time he didn't lie, he only reacted in certain ways, watching how it caused them to draw different conclusions about him.

"You do realize Voldemort wanted me to assimilate, not confusing the shit out of everyone right?" Harry asked Bella nonchalantly after she told him to flirt with the next member. Under her guidance of course.

"Assimilate?" she asked in mock horror, "Where would be the fun in that? You have so much more potential as our mysterious lordling!"

Harry was about to reply when he noticed the whole hall had become silent.

Riddle had stood up at his place in the middle of the head table, immediately gaining everyone's undivided attention.

It only took Harry an instant to detect the malicious glee in Riddle's eyes. He knew with certainty that the lord had found a way to deal with his insubordination.

"I have a small treat for all of you, my esteemed followers. I know you all assume we have finished eating - you are wrong. Tonight we do not have a dinner, we will have a small feast, in honour of our newest member Harry Potter, who has so graciously sat amongst his new group members tonight…"

Harry snorted at that, earning him a kick from Bella below the table.

"…You see, young Harry was reluctant to accept the privilege of sitting with my most trusted followers, thinking himself unworthy of such an honour..."

Harry's hands dropped heavy onto the table. He glared at Riddle, who simply smiled pleasantly back at him.

With only one sentence, he had erased all rumours about Harry's disobedience and instead presented him as a grovelling and compliant follower, too modest to accept his lord's gift.

The awareness that Harry _had_ objected to Riddle's decision to place him at the head table did not help. Riddle took his own words and twisted them in the most skilful way, before throwing them back at him.

"…But I can assure you, dear friends, that young Harry has more than proven his worth to me. And so I ask you to welcome him warmly as the newest member of our growing family."

Riddle finished with an obvious gesture to the chair next to him and an outstretched arm in Harry's direction.

Thunderous applause followed his speech.

"First the hole and now this? You're rising and falling so fast in our rankings, it's a bit hard to keep taps on you lordling," grinned Rosier while clapping along with the others.

Harry was still seething and Bella had to physically push him up and steer him towards the head table.

Grudgingly, Harry made his way over to the waiting lord.

"Why the long face _Harry_? You looked so bored down there I simply had to rescue you," whispered Riddle so no one but Harry could hear him.

"Don't project your own feelings on other people," grumbled Harry as he sat down stiffly.

With another gesture from Riddle, people began to bring in various plates of deserts and wine.

Riddle took his place next to Harry with a confident smirk. "I do confess your absence is accompanied with dullness. Never think I don't miss you, child."

Harry openly gaped at him, not believing his own ears. With Riddle's love for hints and games, that statement was awfully blunt. And sappy. But usually such statements weren't delivered with a cruel smirk, were they?

"Can I interest you in a glass of wine? It is a rare treat." Riddles tone was nothing but amused.

"No thank you, I prefer drinks that do not actively befuddle my mind."

"Hmm… You could be surprised. It can be oddly liberating."

An incredulous laugh escaped Harry. "Are you often drunk _my lord_?"

Riddle smirked at him darkly. "Never. I've seen it in others of course. But-…" He paused and poured himself a full glass. "I'd rather my body is accustomed to the occasional dosage of alcohol, lest I am left unguarded in an inattentive moment."

Seeing Harry's blank expression he continued.

"Consider this; at a meeting with two lords, one wants to impress the other by offering some kind of beverage. The second one accepts so as to not insult the other and both drink. This continues for as long as their meeting lasts. A lord that is not accustomed to any kind of alcohol will get drunk, while the other keeps his wit and gains a clear advantage over the other. I would not be affected, what would you do?"

"Obviously," replied Harry wryly, "I wouldn't drink."

"Ah, what an incredible crude and fitting answer," chuckled Riddle amused. "You will need to educate yourself in proper conduct as soon as possible. Ah, but then again…" he trailed off, fixing Harry with his eyes. "Our ongoing lessons wouldn't exactly fall into that category either, my bad."

Harry felt his cheeks heat up as he stared stubbornly at his plate. "You really shouldn't talk about that so openly you know. People are already thinking the strangest things."

"You presume I wish to keep it a secret? You couldn't be more wrong, child."

Once again he was thrown off guard at Riddle's answer. Something was wrong. The lord was too blunt.

"They are ready to bite my head off."

Riddle waved off his comment. "Of course, they are jealous."

"Don't tell me you don't care about the rumours. You plan everything so meticulously, it can't possibly be good for your reputation," he tried again.

"Believe me Harry, my reputation amongst my followers is secure. If it wasn't out of consideration for you, I would fuck you right here."

Harry's chair clattered on the floor as he stood up abruptly. The others looked up startled at the commotion.

"I apologize _my lord_ ," Harry pressed out, summoning unknown reservoirs of self-control to appear calm under their collective stare. "I'm afraid I don't feel too well, may I be excused?"

Riddle raised to his feet in one fluid motion. "Of course _Harry_ , let me assist you. After all, our destination is the same."

Harry remembered that Riddle had ordered him in his study after dinner. Right out of the frying pan and into the fire.

"That won't be necessary," he bit out acidly.

Riddle's eyes burned into him. "I insist."

Aware that everyone's attention rested on him, Harry had no choice but to let Riddle guide him out of the hall. One hand rested on the small of his back, steering him subtly, while the other clutched his neck as if he were a weak kitten.

As soon as the big door shut close behind them, Harry whirled around and slapped his hands away.

"Are you out of your mind?! What the hell were you thinking, s-saying…something like _that_?!""

Riddle folded his hands in front of him, his gaze raking over Harry's taut form. "I was thinking that since you do not respond to hints and suggestive signs I should take the more straightforward route."

"Well you thought wrong!" fumed Harry.

Riddle just raised his eyebrows calmly. "Are you certain? Because the only other alternative was using force."

Harry was stunned speechless. He had become so used to decipher Riddle's hidden subtleties that his sudden frankness tonight threw him completely off guard.

If the lord was truly considering using force to…get what he wanted… then Harry was in more trouble than he originally thought. Oh he knew Riddle was used to get everything, no matter through which methods, he just had somehow assumed that wouldn't apply to…well, _them_.

"Or do you still dare to claim to be oblivious to it all, my little genius?"

Harry nervously chewed his lower lip and pushed up his glasses more securely on his nose.

He wasn't oblivious anymore, they both knew that. He just would have never thought that Riddle would be so…direct…about it. The occasional intimacies they had shared so far - which still freaked Harry out every time he thought about it - had always happened in the heat of the moment.

Riddle curiously cocked his head at Harry's continued silence. "Or do you think…" he began, curling his hands ever so slowly around Harry's wrists, pushing them behind his back onto the railing of the stony staircase. "…You could stop me?"

The feeling of complete helplessness threatened to crush Harry, before he forced it away, concentrating on his ragged breathing and his rapid beating heart.

"If you stand still and silent for much longer child, I'll take it as an invitation," warned Riddle hoarsely.

"I could not," whispered Harry, almost shy to confess it.

Riddle frowned confused. "Excuse me?"

"I could not stop you," he repeated more firmly.

They both knew Harry would never be able to match Riddle in sheer strength. But knowing something and saying it out loud were two very different things.

Riddle continued to stare at him, not bothering to hide his wonder. Finally, his lips curled with the beginning of his trademark smirk.

"There's something about you _Harry_ , that continues to amaze me. What could possibly be the reason for one to remain so calm while being utterly trapped and then even confess one's weakness?"

Harry swallowed nervously, feeling hyper aware of Riddle's grip that ensnared him there, pressed against the railing.

"It is called trust," he said quietly.

He dimly wondered how on earth his day had resulted in this conversation that was way too raw and exposing for him.

From the look on Riddle's face, he was wondering the same.

"Trust…" Riddle pronounced the word as if he had heard it for the first time. "You…trust me?"

Something in Harry's heart quenched at the amazed tone. Did he trust Riddle? A man who had a hard time even grasping the concept of trust? A man who was currently locking him in a completely helpless position and who had previously confessed that he was thinking about using force?

"Just for the record, I really, really want to answer with 'no'," he clarified, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "But what did you think the answer was? That I'd leave my friends and home to dive into fucking politics and wars for a person I did not trust?"

His own answer surprised him, but he knew it to be the truth. He saw Riddle as the cruel, manipulative bastard he was, yet there was undeniably something between them that had immediately caused Harry to trust him. To some extent at least.

The heavy atmosphere around them began to lift.

Riddle shrugged. "I just always assumed I'm too irresistible."

Harry laughed despite his position. "Only you Riddle, could say that with a straight face."

"I will also freely admit that there is someone else who is just as irresistible." Riddle let go of his wrists and cupped his face instead. "He just doesn't know it yet."

Harry could feel himself flush with embarrassment. "Stop that," he glowered, "You're not suited for such sappy lines."

Riddle quirked an eyebrow and smoothly slid back into his usual self. "Well, we will need to do something about your physical…inadequacies."

"Inadequacies?!" bristled Harry.

"Yes, you're far too easy to hold down. Your brain will be useless to you if you cannot protect yourself physically."

Harry snarled at him. "Give me a minute and I'll build-…"

Riddle cut him off. "Sometimes child, you do not have a minute. Sometimes the enemy is faster."

"Funny how you compare yourself to an enemy," he pointed out suspicious.

"Neither suggestive hints nor bluntness works with you. You are good _Harry_ , but you can't keep me at bay forever."

Harry's eyes narrowed at the implications. "You can bury me in the ground for days, Riddle, you can mock me, you can play your mind games with me and throw me to the dogs, but force me on this matter and you will learn what it means to be my enemy."

He had intended to let Riddle know how perfectly serious he was on this, but the man had the audacity to look intrigued.

"What on earth could you possibly be smirking about _now_?" he seethed, "I know your ego doesn't allow you to feel threatened but I was-…"

"Oh I'm terrified."

He looked at him sceptically. "Well you don't _sound_ terrified."

"I'm terrified of all the hours yet to come that I'll have to content myself with waiting."

Harry's first reflex was to mock him for saying silly things again, but then he caught the true meaning of the words and he shut his mouth. Riddle had basically just promised to wait until Harry was willing, and not use force to get what he wanted, like he usually would.

"We will postpone our meeting for a day. I'm afraid right now I am in desperate need of a cold shower."

"Huh? You don't smell that bad - err, not that I smelled you… intentionally…I mean..." he stammered.

Riddle sighed dramatically. "It's like talking to someone who hasn't gone through puberty yet."

"Puberty is nothing but a word for the changing in hormonal signals from the brain to the gonads which will cause a process of physical changes by which a child matures into an adult capable of sexual reproduction, all of which did happen to me thank you very much."

"Oh? Good to know." Riddle let his eyes wander down the length of Harry's body.

Harry went beet red under his fervid stare. "Go to hell!"

He pushed past Riddle and began to stomp up the stairs, cursing himself for his too quick mouth. He could hear the big doors open behind him and people began to stream out of the great hall.

He practically fled upstairs, fully intent to not deal with any more humans and all the complicated emotions that came with them.

.

* * *

.

Somewhere far to the west, a young man stumbled exhausted through a pitch black forest, carrying the love of his life with his last strength.

"We made it!" he panted, "Can you see the lights? We're almost there 'mione! Not much farther, hold on tightly now."

But the girl did not tighten her hold on his back, her strength had long since left her.

"Don't give up, do you hear me? You're going to be fine Hermione!"

She coughed weakly, a horrible gurgling sound came from her lungs. "R-ro..on."

"Don't talk now!" the boy said panicky, "You need you're strength…T-to recover."

"Ro…n…dogs."

In the distance behind them, he could hear the howling of the search hounds. He gripped her tighter, attempting to will his legs to run, but there was no more strength left.

"Go," Hermione whispered brokenly.

"No!" he cried desperately. "No, never, I can't…We got out 'mione! Alive. We're gonna get through this you hear me?!"

She took a few wheezing breaths. "I w-was…the one th-that…got us there…anyways."

He shook his head feverishly. "Stop talking. Please stop talking. You need your strength."

"I'm s-sorry…They beat y-you."

Tears began to stream down his face and his vision blurred. It didn't matter, it was too dark to see anyways.

"I should have been there sooner. But I couldn't find you until it was too-…. Oh god I'm so sorry."

He closed his eyes momentarily against the onslaught of the horrible things he had seen at the Baron's headquarters while he worked there. And the broken figure of Hermione in her cell, kept there for weeks and tortured to a pulp of bloody flesh.

"It's going to be fine. We're out now. You're going to be fine…" he repeated it like a mantra while the hounds came nearer.

Her body suddenly went slack.

"Hermione?!" He stopped and carefully slid her off his back, almost collapsing form exhaustion.

"'mione, don't do this to me. Please." He crouched down next to her and listened to her breathing. It was practically non-existent.

"No, please, not her, I can't live without her."

He sat there waiting for a miracle, or the world to stop turning, not caring that their pursuers rapidly closed in on them.

"What was so important that you would give your life for it? Oh Hermione, what did you find in those books?"

He buried his head in his hands and cried silently, knowing that if he had found her sooner she would have had a chance to live.

"Ha…rr…y."

He jerked up, bending over her, relief flooding him at the realization that she wasn't dead yet. "What? No- don't talk. I'm gonna get you out of here. Just you wait, I'll-…"

"Har-ry. Yo-u have...to h-elp...him."

She suddenly grabbed his wrists with a strength that belonged more to a grown man than to a dying girl. She opened her eyes, something she hadn't had the strength to do for days.

With a horrible certainty, Ron knew it would be the last time he saw them filled with life.

"Find Harry Potter."

Her hand slipped from his wrists and her eyes stared through him into nothingness.

He couldn't even cry anymore. There was nothing left in him but numbness. He expected the doors to hell to open right then and there. But if Hermione wasn't here anymore, then maybe he already was in hell.

A hound's howl pierced the night, not much more than a few meters away.

Slowly, a hot searing anger began to light up in him. He grabbed a thick branch that lay on the ground next to him and stood up.

He had barely enough strength left to stand, let alone hold the branch. But with the body of the one he had loved at his feet, he felt invincible.

Let them come.

He would kill everything and everyone that stood between him and his one and only goal in life.

Harry Potter.

He had heard that name before.

.


	29. Chapter 29

Harry's day started with a splash of water, flailing limbs and mad laughter. He was still wrestling with his blanket on the floor when a new gush of water poured over him.

"Up, up lordling! A new and exciting day has arrived! Up I say!"

Harry finally managed to untangle himself from the blanket and hastily scrambled to his feet. "Bella?! Wha- why-…How did you find me?!"

Bellatrix stood on his bed, an empty bucket in her hands and a wide grin on her face.

"Oh Snape got a nasty nosebleed that loosened his tongue. Sure I had to punch him a few times to make that happen, but let's not concentrate on the details."

The most disturbing thing was that Harry couldn't tell if she was joking or not.

"And now, dear student of mine, since we're all properly washed, we may begin with our lesson."

She suddenly had a long, wooden stick in her hand that made a swishing sound as she tested it in the air.

"Stud-…Les-…What?!" asked Harry, still half asleep.

"Ten laps around the lake I say! A good start to build up stamina."

"What in the-…Ouch!"

Bella had brought her stick down hard on his head.

"Starting today, I will teach you how to fight properly. Lesson number one: You encounter an opponent much stronger than you - that is me - , what do you do?"

"I would buil-…Ow, stop that!" he cried as she hit him again.

"Tsk. With me you fight with your body, not your toys! Now answer, what can you do?"

"Err…I- woah." Bella had swung her stick again, but this time Harry had seen the attack coming and quickly leapt out of the way.

Bellatrix laughed wildly. "Yes! Good! The answer is you _run_!"

With that, she jumped from the bed, the stick raised above her head, ready to strike and ran towards Harry.

"You've got to be kidding me! I haven't even eaten breakf-…Ow! Would you st-... Ack!"

She beat him relentlessly and Harry, having no option for cover, ran. She sprinted after him, laughing wildly and slamming her stick against everything that happened to be close to her.

Harry fled from the dorms and started running down the stairs, when Bella simply jumped over the first set of stairs and hit him squarely in the stomach.

"Slow! Lazy! Sluggish! Where is your survival instinct?"

And thus the chase began. Bellatrix chased him all around the castle at a murderous speed. Whenever he was too slow or faltered because he didn't recognise the way, she would beat him without restraint.

She hunted him out of the castle and they raced down the fields towards the lake.

"What do you want from me you witch?!" He yelled over his shoulders as her stick swished just past his head.

"I told you lordling, ten lapses!"

"Now?! Impossible! I can't keep this up any longer!"

"Oh I'm sure you will, with the right motivation that is!"

Bellatrix actually followed through with her threat and only stopped hunting him after they had completed the tenth lapse. By then, Harry was convinced he would die of cardiovascular collapse. His body really wasn't trained for such exhaustion.

She had to practically carry him back to the great hall.

In addition to being sweaty, out of breath, a painful stabbing in his side and trembling muscles, his stomach also started to growl pitifully upon smelling the scent of breakfast.

Since he had no energy left for any kind of fight, he slumped down next to Riddle and contented himself with an almighty glare.

The lord only looked amused at his exhausted figure. "Don't look so grouchy."

"Grouchy?! How about I chase _you_ ten times around the lake, let's see who's grouchy then," he hissed.

Riddle calmly swept a hand over Harry's forehead, brushing his sweaty hair away from his eyes. "There's no need for you to chase me, child. I'm already trapped in your charm."

Harry gritted his teeth. "I really don't think I like your recent tilt towards the sentimental."

"You are a hard man to please, _Harry_ ," mocked Riddle.

"A bit of silence would go a long way, _my lord_."

"Tsk. Rude."

Harry took some hasty gulps of water before responding. "Bellatrix woke me this morning, what did you expect my mood would be?"

"She is one of my best fighters you know. You should feel honoured."

Harry rolled his eyes. He was quickly growing sick of all the 'honours' he received in this group. "You're a perfectionist Riddle, everyone in your group is a good fighter."

Riddle lightly inclined his head while filling his plate. "True, but all with their own style. Bella is smaller and lighter than most, so she relies mostly on speed and tricks. Her teachings will suit you much better than someone who depends heavily on muscle force."

Once again Riddle's ability to think ahead left Harry dumbstruck. He had thought he was stuck with Bellatrix because she would annoy him most. But Riddle had actually gone through the trouble to select someone who could beat him up in an instructive way. How…sweet.

"There is also the fact that she's been begging me to let her do it since we left London," continued Riddle, as if reading his thoughts.

Harry snorted. Well, that was somehow sweet in her own ways wasn't it?

Bellatrix, equally sweaty but otherwise in a much better state and certainly in a better mood, sat down on Harry's other side.

"Don't worry my lord, I'll build up his stamina real nicely," she assured him eagerly.

"Ahh, good. That might…come in handy."

Harry chewed on his bread while glancing from Riddle's smug smirk to Bella's wide grin. He was missing something again. Gods, why did this keep happening?

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Bella took on an innocent expression that didn't suit her at all. "Should I work on his flexibility too my lord?"

Harry glared at her suspiciously. "If anything you should work on my strength, I'm already flexible enough."

"Oh?" Riddle's smirk widened even further as he leaned towards Harry. "Do tell child."

"What is it?!" he hissed, annoyed at their exchange of meaningful looks.

Bella laughed loudly. "Is innocence contagious my lord?"

"No my dear Bella, I think it only works the other way around… More juice, _Harry_?"

"No thank you," Harry pressed out crossly, determined to ignore them for the rest of his meal.

He was just starting on his third slice of bread when Bella's stick whipped him over his hands, causing him to let his bread fall back onto his plate.

"Ow! What the fu-…"

"Our break is over, let's see how you actually fight."

Harry stared at her incredulously. "What, now?! But we've already-…"

"Don't be silly, that was the warm-up!"

She grabbed him by his neck and dragged him out of the hall.

Riddle slightly waved after them. "Have fun."

"I will fucking kill you Riddle!" swore Harry fiercely while trying to wring himself out of Bella's grip.

She dragged him outside again, on a plain grassy field near the old willow. To Harry's dismay, quite a few other members followed them curiously.

Bella shoved him a few meters apart from her and lowered her body a bit, taking in a fighter's stance. Their spectators began to jeer, forming a wide circle around them.

"Okay then lordling, let's see how fast your fists are."

"Err…" Harry looked down at his hands, as if seeing them for the first time. Slowly he made an awkward fist. "Aren't you supposed to teach me something first?"

She flashed another sadistic grin in his direction. "Pain is the best instructor sweetie."

"Yeah…Is there any chance for an opponent that is a bit more on my level?" he tried.

Her answer came in form of two fists and one knee. Harry barely managed to evade the first two, but her knee went straight into his stomach, pressing the air out of his lungs.

There was more jeering from the members around them. Somewhere through his pain, Harry noticed that it wasn't necessarily an insulting sound. They just genuinely enjoyed the show.

Bloody sadists, all of them. What was he doing here again?

He clumsily caught Bella's next attack, but got easily thrown off balance and landed in the wet grass.

Harry sighed resigned. He couldn't even be angry at her, she technically _was_ trying to help him. She just tended to go a bit overboard with everything. The companionable mocking spurred her on even more.

"Come now lordling, I know you can do better than that. I still remember your reflex at the inn. You're actually a natural fighter aren't you?

Harry picked himself up and patted some dirt from his trousers. "The only technique I've got is clawing and biting, more like a kitten really."

' _Go ahead and purr.'_

Screw that bastard. What was he doing in his head?

"Oh alright then lordling. Come and bite me."

Harry grimaced revolted. "No thank you, you'd need at least 3 baths before I even contemplated that."

The crowd hooted, this time for Harry.

Bella cackled delighted, then attacked again. This time, Harry was a bit more prepared. At least mentally. Physically, he still didn't stand a chance.

All he could do was to dodge and block her attacks so they would only leave bruises but hopefully no broken bones. He succeeded at kicking her once, but she seemed completely unfazed by it and simply grabbed his leg and twisted painfully. He also managed to half-slap, half-scratch her cheek, leaving small red streaks. Both of his attacks earned him applause from their spectators.

She hit and kicked him countless times and once he fell to the ground because he stumbled _over his own bloody feet_.

She always allowed him to pull himself together after a particular heavy blow, showing remarkable restraint for her. It was clear she was only playing with him, but Harry knew he should be grateful, if she had showed her true strength, he quite certainly would be dead now.

He tried again to land a blow, aiming straight for her face. She ducked easily, spun around and threw him over her shoulder. He landed face first on the grass.

Before he could scramble to his feet, she was already on his back, locking his right arm in a painful hold.

"Yield! I yield! Stop that you evil witch, you'll dislocate my shoulder, argh!"

"Hmph. I thought you said you were flexible," she taunted, but let his arm relax a bit.

"You are fast lordling, your reflexes will save your life. You have to work on your balance though, you don't give me more resistance than a pillow. And stop clutching your thumb like a baby when you make a fist, you will break it if you hit too hard. And where on earth did you aim that kick at? If your opponent is muscular, his stomach will be as hard as wood. You have to aim for the kidneys, or the knees."

Harry blinked a few times, puzzled at her orders that were actually helpful. She stood up and Harry could pull himself into a sitting position.

A few slow claps made him look up. He muttered a curse as he saw Riddle standing in front of him, smirking down at him.

"Good work Bella. You'll continue tomorrow?"

"Of course my lord," she answered eagerly.

The crowd began to disband, leaving only Riddle and Harry behind. He was covered in mud and bruises, but he didn't want to give Riddle the power to make him feel inferior again, so he smiled crookedly up at him with a bloody lip.

"Well, don't I look stunning covered in bruises?"

Riddle quirked a surprised brow. "Reading my thoughts now, are you?"

"Just getting to know you."

"Hmm," the lord made and bent down, extending a hand to touch his cheek. "Good."

Riddle's hand brushed a few pieces of dirt away, his thumb tracing over Harry's bloodied lip.

Harry's muscles tensed up at the action, but he didn't give him the satisfaction to flinch.

"You're not drawing away," observed Riddle curiously.

"Maybe it's just a plot to get _you_ dirty for once. I know you hate it."

Riddle bristled slightly at that. "That depends entirely on the circumstances child."

"Maybe, but you're alwa-…"

Riddle's mouth silenced his, biting down hard on his already bloodied lip, sucking harshly.

For shocked seconds Harry froze completely, before shoving him resolutely away.

"Ow! What are you, a leech?!" he screeched indignantly and leaned back to get more distance between them.

Riddle wiped a hand over his own mouth, completely unruffled. "I believe the appropriate question would be whether I am a vampire."

"What the hell is a vampire?"

"A creature of the night, sucking the blood of innocents to live forever."

Harry snorted. "Yes that certainly sounds like you."

"They are also sinfully gorgeous," smirked Riddle.

"Ah," made Harry drily. "I wouldn't know about _that_."

Riddle sighed dramatically. "A hard man to please indeed."

Harry scowled at him and picked himself up.

"And while you do look stunning in every situation," Riddle continued, "I do prefer you in a cleaner state. Go wash yourself before meeting me in my study. You still owe me an explanation."

"Go wash Harry, eat this Harry, do that Harry, build this Harry," he let out an annoyed huff. "Are you even able to talk without commanding everyone?"

"Would you prefer to come like this?"

"No," said Harry crossly.

"Then I don't see the problem."

Harry made an inarticulate, groaning sound that was half a sigh, half a despaired cry. "You make me want to tear up my own face!"

"Oh good. We're getting somewhere."

Harry gaped at him. "I- wha- huh? No, you know what, forget it. I don't even want to ask."

He trudged back to the castle, favouring his right leg slightly because his left had gotten a nasty blow from Bellatrix.

He had to walk up and down the stairs several times to get enough water to fill his tub. They used lake water to wash themselves. Not completely clean, but more than most had.

He was carrying his last bucket up when suddenly someone caught him on the fourth floor, slamming him brutally against the wall. Water soaked their feet when the bucket tumbled to the ground.

"So you like it rough eh? A pretty boy like you, who would have thought?" the man breathed next to his ear.

The stench of sweat assaulted Harry's nostrils and he opened his eyes which he had closed when his head had hit the wall painfully hard.

He didn't recognise the man, he must have been one of the members that hadn't talked to him during dinner.

"Who are you?" he asked icily

"Oh just a lowly member. But you aren't are you? Lordling, ha! A pretty little fuck toy hm?"

"What?"

"Tell me, does he fuck you good?"

Harry was left dumbstruck while the man had the audacity to touch him in areas _he did not want to be touched_.

"How do you like it, hmm?"

"Get your filthy hands off me or I'll rip your arm out and club you dead with it."

The man only laughed. "My my, so energetic. And such a proud face. You must make a magnificent sight underneath him."

"I have no idea wh-…"

The man crushed their mouths together, shoving his tongue into Harry's mouth.

It was the single most disgusting thing in his entire life. He bit down hard.

The man howled in pain and let him go, clutching his bloodied mouth. "Oh you'll regret that pretty boy."

Harry kicked him with all the force he could manage, aiming for his knee like Bella had told him. There was a satisfying crunching noise and the man fell to the ground.

"I highly doubt that," spat Harry, grabbed his bucket and ran back to the stairs.

He only stopped running once he was safely in his dorms.

Ew that was just…ugh.

See? He had told Riddle nothing good could come out of this sick jealousy! Jeez, these members had some serious problems.

He sighed and prepared his bath, not remembering when he had ever wanted to wash so desperately.

But before he got in, a white bundle of feathers fluttered in front of him.

"Hedwig!"

He had almost forgotten about the owl. He had assumed that she either lost her way or didn't want to come back at all.

Instead, there was a small letter tied to her foot.

"Did you fly all the way back to Aberforth before returning?" he asked her astounded while he untied the letter.

She hooted tiredly at him. He unfolded the paper.

_Harry,_  
 _We hope you arrived safely at your headquarters. We made it back pretty easily. There is something brewing in the east, in the Bloody Baron's territory. We heard gruesome tales. If there is any chance you can convince your lord not to challenge him, do it. There are also rumours about new dead lords appearing everywhere, not just at balls. We suspect the twins now also hunt single lords in their headquarters._  
 _Be careful._  
 _Aberforth & Alastor_

Oh great.

As if he hadn't already enough to confess to Riddle, now he could also tell him about hearing 'gruesome tales' from the Baron. For all he knew, that would made him want to go even more, out of curiosity.

Shaking his head at the mess he called life, he gave Hedwig some food before finally taking his bath.

.

* * *

.

"So you're telling me…" began Riddle slowly after Harry had re-told his story. "That little Ginny is the sister of the murderers that killed the lords at the ball, which are twins, which belong to the family that raised you in your early years, which belongs to the resistance that opposes the guild that planned the chaos all along and that wants you dead because you…give hope?"

They had been sitting in Riddle's study for over two hours now. The lord hadn't interrupted once while Harry had told him everything he knew about the Weasleys, the resistance and the guild.

"Err, yeah…Something like that. They already planned to kill me with the pills apparently, then I should have died in the fire, or at the very least during the chaos, then Dumbledore wanted to do it himself and now Scrimgeour hopes I die in your challenge against the Baron."

"That is…Quite a lot of enemies you have there child."

Harry laughed nervously. "Uhm, kinda… Still sure you want me in your group?"

To his surprise, Riddle smirked haughtily. "Oh please, you just told me there is a whole bunch of lords in the resistance that have sworn to _die_ for you. The opportunities you present, _Harry_ , are endless."

"Yeah…They kind of expect me to unite them and take down the guild. I refused and, err, told them you could do it."

Riddle's eyes widened comically, before he broke out into laughter. "Oh my. Child, you really need to stop scheming behind my back. I'm afraid I'll miss all the _fun_."

Harry sheepishly scratched the back of his head. "Well it's not like _you're_ telling me anything. So I thought…At least until I knew what was going on myself…"

Riddle gracefully stood up and began circling Harry's chair, turning his insides into a tight knot.

"'The chosen one', right under my nose," contemplated Riddle. "And under the beacon of hope an assembly of lords, planning a revolution. It does have a nice ring to it. It's like you're having your own followers already."

He came to a stop in front of him, gently pushing his glasses up.

Harry flinched violently at the contact.

Riddle immediately picked up on his sudden reclusiveness. "What is it?"

Harry avoided his eyes. "Nothing."

"It's clearly not nothing, what happened?"

"It's fine. I'm just tired from all the talking. Can I go now?"

The lord frowned, evidently not buying his excuse, but after a scrutinizing look he sat back down in his own chair.

"We haven't talked about our plans for the Baron yet. You may go after that."

Harry nodded. "Alright. Do you still want to challenge him? You already knew it was a trap. But now that you know it was all set up by the guild…"

"Back in the train, you told me you had an idea that would defeat the Baron easily."

Harry remembered the torn out pages, scribbled full with notes he did not remember making. "I might have one, if I had some bloody time to actually work on my stuff."

"I do still plan to challenge him. Now more than ever. If we manage to win, we would have already gotten rid of one of the powerful lords in the guild."

"You're not actually thinking about going against the whole guild?" groaned Harry. He really _, really,_ didn't want to be pulled even further into this mess.

"I wanted to know why my mother had to die. Now I do."

And he would kill every single person that was responsible for her death. Harry sighed silently.

Riddle made an irritated gesture, as if banishing his thoughts. "But for now, we have another problem."

"We do?!"

"You told me Grindelwald was the founder of the guild?" he asserted. "How very curious… I got a personal invitation to visit him just yesterday."

Harry snapped up in his chair. "What?! Why?"

"You tell me. All I know is that I can't miss it for the world. But he expects me in a few weeks and we can't wait that long to challenge the Baron. The guild might decide to get rid of us otherwise, plus we don't want him being even more prepared."

Harry massaged his temples, his head spinning with the implication and possible solutions. "But you can't travel to Grindelwald's territory _and_ to the Baron's to make the challenge."

"Oh but I will do exactly that."

Harry laughed dismissively at his arrogant tone. "That's impossible. You can't be in two places at the same time. Not even I can help you with that."

"Yes you can, my little genius."

Harry stopped laughing and looked at him sceptically, searching for an indication that this was just a joke, but only finding a wicked smirk.

"…You just have to be me again."

.

 


	30. Chapter 30

"No, forget it, I'm not doing it." Harry resolutely crossed his arms in front of him and leaned back in his chair.

"Yes you will."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

Riddle tsked. "Stop acting so childish."

"Oh as if you were any better!" he hissed back.

They stared each other down, the silence only interrupted by the crackling noise of the fireplace.

"I remember a conversation we had on the train," Riddle continued lazily. "You told me you didn't mind being used, as long as I told you the plan."

Harry glared at him and let out a deep breath. "Yeah well, I meant _feasible_ plans."

"It is feasible. You've done it before."

"With Fudge!" exclaimed Harry agitated. "Not with the fucking mastermind of the apocalypse!"

Because he just knew he would be the one getting stuck with Grindelwald.

Riddle needed to be with the Baron when claiming his victory. It was one thing to challenge a group as an imposter, but a lord couldn't just stay away from the battle. A group would never admit defeat to such a coward and the resulting rumours would be ugly.

Riddle's smirk became taunting. "Scared?"

Harry huffed. "Of the man that plunged the world into chaos and set back civilisation by several centuries? Yes!"

"You'll be fine. It's a simple invitation. All you have to do is talk with the lord."

"And not mention that I'm the baby everyone is obsessed with killing."

"That as well," Riddle conceded. "You'll just have to learn how to act like a lord. Judging from the way my own followers are starting to treat you, that won't be a big issue."

"They are treating me according to how _you_ handle me."

"You give yourself too little credit _Harry_. All we need to work on is your manners."

Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation. "I said I'm not doing it! I'm the one who will have to build the things needed to defeat the Baron. I should be there! Besides, they set us up to fail with that challenge, you will need all the manpower you can get."

"I would prefer it to have you with me," Riddle admitted, "but we can't ignore this unexpected invitation."

"Fine, then send someone else! It doesn't have to be me right? Send Lucius, he was a former lord after all. Or Snape, the man is able to hide anything."

Riddle's face darkened briefly at Snape's 'ability'. "No. Grindelwald must have heard rumours about me. One thing everyone is certainly gossiping about is my age. Technically I don't belong to the lost generation, but I'm assuming quite a few group me with them. You fit the description: Young, male, dark haired, strange eye colour-…"

"My eyes are normal!" protested Harry.

"Besides," continued Riddle, simply ignoring him, "You know what's really going on with both the Baron and Grindelwald. I need someone there that will be able to make all the connections."

Harry leaned back in his chair and sulked quietly. Everything Riddle said made sense and he just hated it.

If they wanted to best the guild, and that was a big if, they needed to start doing so now. They set a trap with the Baron, so they needed to win instead. Their leader sent an invitation at the same time, making it impossible to do both. So they needed to do exactly that. The impossible.

"You can take someone with you if you want," Riddle continued. "Even that greasy traito-…"

"Snape is your only physician. Plus he's the only one that can still talk some sense into you without pissing himself. I won't allow you to go anywhere without me or him."

Riddle chuckled darkly. "You won't _allow_ it?"

"Someone has to keep an eye on you."

The lord smirked but didn't retort otherwise, surprising Harry.

"I can't give you Bella or Lucius, they are my best fighters. And seeing how you refuse to socialize with anyone else…"

Harry gritted his teeth in annoyance. It was hardly his fault that he didn't really know any other members. They had talked about that before, but of course the damn lord didn't listen.

"Fine, I'll go alone then," he shrugged.

Crimson eyes narrowed. "Now _that,_ is something I won't allow."

"If something were to happen, one person will hardly make a difference," he argued.

"Still, not happening. I could spare Dolohov I suppose, or Nott."

Harry grimaced at the prospect of travelling across the country with someone he didn't know at all.

"What about Rosier?" he asked reluctantly. He didn't really like or trust the man, but at least they had talked on several occasions.

Riddle looked at him pensively. "Evan Rosier? He's an archer. Very useful whenever there's no munition around. But I would prefer it if you took someone more suited for close combat."

Harry growled. "You can shove your preferences up your ass Riddle. Him or no one."

"Such language child. Now I am curious though, is there something I should know about you and Rosier? I've seen you sitting with him during meals," Riddle teased nonchalantly.

"Yes, trying to socialize," Harry spat.

That wasn't his true reason at all. But it sounded better than 'I just did it to piss you off', so Harry went with it.

"Fine then, Evan Rosier it is. We will take the train, so you'll have to find other means to travel. Can you ride a horse?" Riddle asked.

"Never tried befo-… Now hold on, I haven't agreed yet!" Harry caught himself and glared at him. The bastard was way too good at steering the conversation.

Riddle fluidly stood and leaned forward, effectively trapping him in his own chair. Harry squirmed to get some distance between them, but the chair wouldn't let him.

The lord leaned in close, their noses practically touching, his red eyes uncomfortably close to Harry's.

"I'm not giving you a choice," Riddle whispered amused, his breath tickling Harry's face.

"I hate you," hissed Harry, letting his body slide further down to get away from the looming face.

It was a mistake. His legs became tangled up in Riddle's, trapping him even further. Riddle smirked as his knee made contact with Harry's groin.

"I _really_ hate you," growled Harry.

"I'm honoured you have such _passionate_ feelings towards me."

Harry wriggled, trying to get back up, but that would mean he had to practically kiss Riddle.

He frowned in frustration. The lord chuckled above him, obviously enjoying his predicament.

"Let me go," demanded Harry disgruntled.

"And once again I'm not holding you anywhere," Riddle pointed out smugly. "Are you trying to run again, _Harry_?"

"I said I was tired."

"Hmm," made Riddle sceptically, shifting his leg casually.

"Bastard," spat Harry and lunged upwards to meet his lips.

He would never admit how much he enjoyed feeling Riddle stiffen in surprise. Before the man could deepen the kiss, Harry broke away, sliding away from him in his unguarded moment.

"I said I was tired," he repeated, while the adrenaline rush flushed his face and made him almost jump with energy.

"Liar," drawled Riddle, his eyes burning with swirling emotions.

They stayed frozen like that for a while, Riddle refusing to dismiss him and Harry refusing to run away again.

Finally Riddle let out a long, resigned breath.

"Fine. Run along then _Harry_ , you'll need all the sleep you can get. I expect first results of that plan of yours by tomorrow evening."

Harry tried and failed to suppress a grin at his small victory.

"Little minx," the lord muttered after him.

.

* * *

 

.

"Mr Potter, it is already 8 o'clock. Luckily you have been excused from today's breakfast for educational purposes. That doesn't mean I'll allow you to oversleep."

Harry grudgingly opened his eyes and blinked drowsily at his intruder who stood at the end of his bed.

"I swear to god, the next person who enters these dorms will blow up," he promised darkly.

"How gory."

"It's too goddamn early in the morning," groused Harry. "What do you want Mr Malfoy?"

Lucius glanced down at him as if there wasn't anything weird about this situation. "I find myself charged with an impossible task - to put it mildly."

"You want me to help you?" asked Harry, surprised. Malfoys didn't ask for help.

Lucius looked at him oddly. "No, you _are_ the task. I have the dubious pleasure to mold you into a lord."

Harry blinked at him. "Well, shit."

"My thoughts exactly."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "Really? You know swearwords?"

"Knowing them and saying them are two very different things, you will do well to remember that from now on."

"Not bloody likely," scowled Harry, but got up anyways.

Lucius sighed displeased. "Thus the impossibility of my task."

He led Harry to one of the many unused rooms in the castle. This one was empty except for one big table and a few chairs. The table was set meticulously and decorated in abundance.

The first thing Harry noticed was that there were three plates, but an unreasonable number of silverware. The second thing was Rosier, who leaned lazily against the wall, grinning broadly at him.

Harry had a bad feeling about this.

"You are here to learn enough manners so you can _pretend_ as if you actually had them," said Lucius, coming to stand behind the third chair on the opposite side of the table, facing Harry and Rosier.

"We will start our breakfast once you've remembered the proper use of all the utensils on this table. I will ask you again tomorrow and the following days after. Get it right and we might proceed, get it wrong and there won't be any breakfast on those days." Lucius looked at them sternly. "Any questions?"

Harry just eyed the table suspiciously. Rosier pushed himself off the wall and held up his hand. "Yes, oh wise teacher, why am I here?"

"You mean you didn't volunteer for these invaluable lessons?" mocked Harry in fake horror.

Lucius shot him an icy glare that quickly shut him up. Gods but that man could be intimidating if he wanted to. Harry might have lowered his head even, if he wasn't so used to Voldemort's presence. Compared to Riddle, Lucius was downright adorable.

"I don't care why you're here Evan. I was instructed to teach you both so I will. Now, any ideas to the various uses of these forks?"

Harry glanced at Rosier. The man looked clueless at the table, but otherwise showed no signs of objection or annoyance at being here.

Neither Lucius nor Rosier knew why they were doing this or why Rosier was even here as well, but Harry did. He told Riddle that _if_ he went to Grindelwald he would take Rosier with him and so Rosier was here. Simple.

Riddle's plan was already in motion and none of Harry's protests would change that fact. He worked the strings of his puppets skilfully and almost invisible. And they followed him without any questions.

Harry made a note to punch him in the face next time he'd see the bastard.

.

* * *

 

.

An eternity of three hours later, both Rosier and him were going slightly insane.

It took them over an hour before they could even start eating, as Rosier repeatedly failed to memorize all the uses of each silverware. Harry had no trouble with that, passing Lucius' test on the first try. He was however stuck until Rosier succeeded as well, leading to several failed attempts at cheating.

He also soon had to learn that theory wouldn't get him very far. Apparently he couldn't even hold a spoon correctly. A spoon! He even had to sit down twenty times before Lucius judged him graceful enough to pass as a human being and not an ogre.

While the constant corrections only served to drive Harry into yet unknown depths of annoyance, Rosier started to have uncontrollable laughing fits sometime after the second hour.

Needless to say after three hours of spoons, knives, forks and glasses, both of them came to the conclusion that they arrived in hell and Lucius was a particularly nasty demon sent to torture them.

They started discussing possible plans for exorcism after Lucius spent ten minutes explaining the 'hidden handle', one of many styles to hold a fork.

Harry would never admit it, but when Bellatrix came through the door she looked like an angel sent from heaven. At least at first glance.

"Fair lady! Take me away from here, I beg you!" cried Rosier in despair, letting his fork clatter uselessly on his plate. Lucius glared at him.

"Good god Lucius, what did you do to them?" laughed Bella.

"Teaching. Tried to." Lucius had adapted a curt, one word way to answer over the past hours. His control was strong, but his irritation had gained momentum.

Bellatrix started to pat Harry's head. "Poor little lordling, did big bad Lucius torture you?"

"My head is twisted, my brain is in knots and my ass is sore," Harry replied solemnly.

"No worries, I'll punch your brain straight out of your skull so you won't have to feel a thing."

"I'd appreciate that," he grinned.

"Not finished," interjected Lucius.

Harry and Rosier groaned at that and let their well-rehearsed postures slump.

"I am so very not sorry dearest Lucius, but I have a curriculum to finish with this one." Bella pulled Harry out of his chair.

"Don't you dare leave me alone here!" protested Rosier in terror. "What do you say old hag? Two against one?"

Bellatrix cackled wildly. "Ha! You Evan? You're useless once your opponent is closer than ten feet! And this puppy here still has years to learn before he can even dream of beating me."

She smiled innocently at Harry who glowered at her.

"Oh but we have brains," retorted Rosier, tapping at his temples meaningful.

"Yes, we shall obliterate you with our newfound knowledge of spoons!" nodded Harry seriously.

Bella grinned maliciously. "If you say so lordling."

"Aye, fear the spoons!" cried Rosier and jumped up.

 

* * *

 

"Fear the spoons?" Harry moaned, probing his ribcage for broken bones.

"It sounded good when I said it," defended Rosier and spat out a mouthful of dirt and blood.

Both of them were once again laying in the dirty grass.

"Well?" laughed Bella behind them, "I'm still waiting to get obliterated!"

She didn't even have a scratch.

"What do you think, should we try flanking her again?" asked Rosier doubtfully.

"We tried that five times already! Never expect a different result doing the same thing, ever heard of that?"

"No."

Harry shot him an incredulous look. "It's Einstein! Come on, everyone knows Einstein!"

"I heard you didn't know what a letter was," Rosier countered with a grin.

"That's different!" he objected fiercely.

"Are you done picking your feathers boys?" Bellatrix called, bored.

"What an odd day," sighed Rosier, looking up at the cloudy sky.

"Welcome to my world," grumbled Harry, wincing when his fingers found a particularly bruised spot.

Rosier turned to him. "And here I thought an invitation to your world would include a soft bed and perfumed candles."

Harry snorted. "Dream on."

"Oh I dream alright."

Harry scowled at him. Rosier just laughed.

"Well this has been fun," said Harry, sarcasm dripping from every word. "Alas I have homework on my own to do." He stood up and patted dirt from his jeans.

"Giving up so soon lordling?" Bella taunted.

"I am _almost_ sorry for not letting you break all of my bones," he shot back sweetly, "But I still need them for a while. Tough times are coming."

"As long as they don't come in the form of silverware…" Rosier shuddered.

Harry would have almost preferred silverware to what was really coming. Almost.

He left the other two to continue their bickering and made his way up to the seventh floor.

The dorms slowly started to look like his old home, half-finished inventions and broken pieces everywhere. It seemed that he simply wasn't cut out to keep order.

It took him a while to find the torn out pages of Riddle's books, overwritten with his own notes. He laid them out on the floor and started to piece them together.

It was always slightly disconcerting to analyse the outcome of his blackouts. Most of the times there were just new inventions laying around, or solutions in his head. It had been a while since he left himself notes.

It was clear just by the looks of the scribbled pages that whoever wrote them was insane. They weren't neat or organized. Sometimes they stopped in mid-sentence, sometimes they were written in circles or upside down, several pages had actually more than one layer of notes, the words almost unreadable, the calculations completely random, jumping from one problem to the next.

Except Harry knew nothing was random. He just couldn't see the logic behind his own notes anymore. He had long since come to accept that all he could do was trust the results. He just needed to find them first.

The plan was crazy and more than a bit dangerous, but Harry assumed it would be okay, since you needed to be mad to even consider such an unequal fight.

They were heavily outnumbered, at a clear disadvantage since they would fight on the Baron's own territory, and set up to fail from the beginning. What they needed was the unexpected. The chaos. The element of surprise, even though the guild had already planned everything out.

They could hold on to their plans for all he cared. Actually he counted on it. They knew from the meeting at the ball that Harry would be able to reproduce the blades. No doubt they were expecting them to think this would give them the element of surprise, the chance to win. Only the Baron wouldn't be surprised because he had already been informed.

Well, he had been informed wrong. Oh they would come with blades, lulling them into a false sense of security. And then they would cut them down while they were still gaping. Harry grinned.

But he wouldn't be there to see it. He frowned displeased. He had sold countless ingenious inventions, but he had never sold a plan before. It felt weird. And he wouldn't even get anything in return except that stupid smirk.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when Hedwig screeched indignantly behind him. He looked up from his spot on the floor to see her on a drawer, flapping her wings madly in an attempt to intimidate her opponent.

"Nagini! Let her alone you…you…err…" he trailed off uncertainly as the large snake turned her attention to him.

She wouldn't attack him right? She had taken his damn sample! How did she get in here in the first place?!

"Uhm…hi?"

Oh great, now he was talking to _snakes_.

He took an involuntary step back as she slithered determined in his direction. Harry's eyes flickered to one of his more deadly inventions, but couldn't quite bring himself to grab it. The resulting conversation with Riddle over his dead pet wouldn't end well.

Faster than his eyes, Nagini lunged out and gripped his wrist in an unforgiving clutch. Then she turned and continued to slide out of the dorms.

He was being pulled by a snake like a bloody dog on a leash. Harry was so dumbstruck that he momentarily forgot to resist.

"Now hold on a sec!" he protested and tried to pull his hand free.

Nagini hissed menacingly at him, making sure he could see her deadly teeth.

Harry followed her willingly after that.

She pulled him down the stairs and Harry began to suspect he already knew where they would end up. He heard you could train dogs to fetch balls or branches, apparently Riddle taught snakes how to fetch humans.

It was already beginning to get dark outside and torches had been lit along the frequently used corridors in the castle.

Something in his peripheral vision caught his attention. He peered out of the big window they were passing and froze, earning another angry hiss from Nagini.

It was far away, fuzzy in the twilight and he only saw it for a split second. But he was certain.

There at the edge of the thick forest, two faces had stared up at him.

Two identical faces.

The twins were here.

.

 


	31. Chapter 31

Harry ran down the corridor, an angry hissing Nagini trailing behind him. She refused to let go of his wrist, which severely incapacitated her speed.

"Well can't you slither any faster?!" Harry asked her unnerved, earning a venomous look from her.

He needed to get to Riddle and tell him that they had a more urgent problem than Harry's incompetence to hold a spoon.

How did the twins know? Did they know? If not, why were they here? Had they seen Ginny already? Had they seen him? Did they know him? Were they here for him, for their sister or just another victim?

Harry's head was spinning with questions. As much as he wanted to storm into the forest and demand answers, he needed to tell Riddle first, he was the lord after all. A slightly insane chuckle escaped Harry's lips. Oh was he _worried_ about the bastard now? What was next?! Unicorns were real?

He descended down into the dungeons and practically knocked Snape over, who had just exited his quarters.

Harry sprinted past him, pulling Nagini with him. "Find Ginny! Keep her out of sight!"

He didn't look back to see Snape's reaction. He hoped the man would draw the right conclusions on his own, or at least follow Harry's whim.

He went even further down, into the labyrinth of hidden passages and secret doors that led to lord Voldemort's private study. He didn't even think to knock.

"Riddle! We have a pro-…uuhhh…"

The lord was in the process of getting undressed. Strike that, he was practically naked. Only his underpants still remained, and those were a bit too revealing for Harry's liking.

"I…ah…w-what are you doing?"

"I was thinking of taking a bath," Riddle replied smoothly, completely unbothered by his state. "Care to join me?"

Harry had known Riddle was one of these people that had no reservations about their own bodies, but the sheer nonchalance of it all still unsettled him.

"A-and you didn't…uh…lock the door?!" Then his brain caught up to where exactly they were. "You bath in your _study_? Wait, do you live here?"

"No one enters here without knocking. Except for you of course," Riddle smirked, making Harry shift uncomfortably.

"Ahaha, yeah. Gotcha. I'll uhm…Knock when you're dressed 'kay?"

He turned hastily to leave, but Riddle's cool hand curled around his neck, keeping him there as he pressed himself against Harry from behind.

"It doesn't bother me."

Some of his defiance returned to him at the smug tone. "Yes well, it bothers _me_."

"Hmm…" Riddle's fingers teasingly traced down Harry's neck, making him shiver.

"I'm serious Riddle, the twins are here."

The lord paused at that. "The Weasleys?"

"The assassins," Harry reminded him.

Riddle chuckled. "I'm flattered you worry about me, yet also insulted you think me so weak."

"Fine! You take your stupid bath, I'll go talk to them."

Riddle's grip on his neck tightened. "Absolutely not."

"Oh you think _I'm_ weak do you?" Harry asked scathingly.

Riddle tsked. "Silly child. I wouldn't tolerate someone weak at my side."

He spun around, breaking free of Riddle's hold. "You are the lord. You are their target, not me. Besides, there's a real chance that they know me."

"Exactly. What if you did something horrible to them?"

"Like what?! I was one year old! What could I have possibly done?"

Riddle smirked at him. "Puke all over their faces..?"

"You are unbelievable!" He turned away in frustration and stomped to the door, Riddle closely on his heels.

"And your stubbornness borders on stupidity," the lord accused him.

"They have answers. And I have too many questions to let such an opportunity slip by. Besides, you can't stop me, it's not like you can come after me in this state," Harry said sweetly and determined walked out the door.

He hadn't expected that Riddle would actually follow him, despite his scantily clad state.

He also hadn't expected to bump into Snape and Ginny right in front of the study's door.

The man's dark eyes widened slightly as Harry and a half naked lord Voldemort came out of the lord's private quarters. An awkward silence ensued, in which Ginny stared wide eyed at all of them.

"I have the girl," Snape said at last, crossing his arms in front of him and staring at Harry inquisitively.

"Oh, err…right. Yes, thanks. I-.."

" _We_ have business in the woods," Riddle interrupted, still completely unbothered by his state.

Snape rose not one, but two eyebrows at that. "It is getting quite cold this late, my lord. Might I suggest a somewhat more…warming…attire?"

"Or any attire at all," remarked Harry drily.

Riddle shot him a reproachful look, but eventually sighed defeated. "Very well, I'll change. You don't move unt-…"

But Harry had already broken free and sprinted down the corridor. He heard Riddle hiss in displeasure behind him, but he knew it was too late for him to catch up now. He'd definitely pay for this later but…oh well.

Bella's rigorous stamina training came in handy as he made his way through the dungeon labyrinth in record tempo. Still, by the time he went outside, the night was pitch black. He briefly considered getting a flashlight from his dorms, but decided against it. By then Riddle would have caught up to him and who knew where the twins were then?

They must know something. And Harry was pretty certain they had recognised him, why else would they aim past him and shoot Snape? He didn't dare lose his chance to talk to them.

He only slowed down once he reached the edge of the dark forest. The trees were huge, thick and made eerie croaking noises in the soft breeze. All in all it was not a place Harry wished to be after dark.

He paced along the edge of it, feeling a bit silly. Of course they wouldn't just sit at the edge and wait. They had probably just stolen a glimpse at the castle when he saw them through the window.

He arrived at the spot where he had seen them and hesitantly entered the forest. The faint moonlight that had illuminated the fields before immediately disappeared completely once he passed the first row of trees.

He couldn't help but feel like his mission was hopeless. How should he find anything in here, let alone two stealthy assassins?

Still, they couldn't be far. The forest to both sides of him was incredibly thick and full of impenetrable undergrowth. There really was only one way to go from where he had entered.

He had never been afraid of the dark, he had always seen it as an inconvenience, something he had to drive away in order to keep on working or reading. However, the oppressive dark now, coupled with a numb silence and a cold breeze, made him extremely nervous.

He lost track of time after a short while in the forest, so he couldn't tell how long he had been walking until he reached a clearing. The moonlight wasn't blocked by trees here, and his eyes that had adjusted to complete darkness were able to see surprisingly well.

That was why he saw the little camp immediately. There was no fire, and sadly also no twins, but there was a canvas that hung between two trees, serving as a makeshift tent and a few wooden boxes and sacs lying around.

Harry remained hidden behind the trees first, making sure the clearing was deserted. Then his curiosity got the better of him.

He approached the little camp carefully, inspecting their equipment without touching anything. He saw mostly food, makeshift weapons, ammunition and blankets. However, a strange pair of goggles caught his eyes. They looked a bit like the glasses he used for soldering, but slightly broader and with coloured lenses.

Curious, he picked them up and put them on. Suddenly the world turned green and he could see the outlines of the trees clearly. He even saw a bird sitting in one of the trees, a bright green spot in the dull background. Nightvision. That was…

"Awesome!" he breathed in reverence, turning his head this way and that, taking in his surroundings.

"Aren't they?" agreed a voice right behind him.

He jumped in surprise before whirling around, seeing two distinctly human shaped green figures.

Warily he removed the goggles, facing the twins. They were holding their crossbows again, but Harry was relieved to note that they didn't point at him. Yet.

"Quite handy as well," continued one of them.

"Can't take the credit for their invention of course."

"But we made them ourselves."

"Made our life so much easier," nodded his brother.

"Especially since most targets try to hide."

One cocked his head curiously. "You're not like most."

"Actually you're the first that found us before we found him," agreed the other.

They seemed to consider whether they should congratulate him or offer their condolences. Harry wisely remained silent.

"You know, you avoided all our traps," remarked one, impressed.

"But you got caught by our nightvision _goggles_?" his brother asked incredulously.

They exchanged a wry grin. "We think we like you."

"So, we're sorry about that." One suddenly grabbed him with surprising strength while the other came closer to Harry's face. "But we have to make sure."

The one in front of him swiftly pointed a flashlight directly in his face. The bright light felt like a whiplash after all this time in the dark. He scrunched up his face reflexively.

"What do you think George? That him?" asked the one holding Harry intently.

George said nothing for a while, continuing to blind Harry with his flashlight. "Make him open his eyes. I can't tell like that."

His twin somehow managed to hold Harry in place with only one hand, while his other hand tried to pry one of Harry's eyes open.

That finally loosened Harry's tongue. "Ow-…St- Ouch!"

He squirmed in his grip and succeeded at pushing him away, then held up his hand to shield his eyes from the blinding light.

"I'm Harry alright? Harry Potter. And I know you're the sons of Arthur and Molly Weasley."

There was a heavy pause before the flashlight slowly left his face, pointing at the ground instead, illuminating all of their figures.

"That's…fucking impossible," exclaimed George breathless.

"Language brother."

"There's no other way to say it."

"It's bloody damn impossible?" suggested his twin wryly.

"Yeah I get that a lot recently," grumbled Harry. "Listen can we sit down or something? I have a lot of questions."

"Fred, he says he has questions," deadpanned George.

" _He_ has questions, George?"

"He has."

"I have," insisted Harry, having no clue what was going on but determined to not let it show.

"I wouldn't believe it, but that bat-like fellow called you Potter as well."

So that was why the twins hadn't shot him at the ball. They had heard Snape and must have only realized then who Harry was.

"So Harry, do you usually go out into big scary forests at night, alone and with no light at all to ask questions from people who almost shot you?"

"That sounds like me," Harry agreed somewhat reluctantly.

"My, you're a weird one."

"And believe me, coming from us that's pretty concerning," Fred joked lightly.

"Yes, I get that a lot as well," he sighed. "Look I don't know if you want to kill me or what, but I can't remember anything from my past and my life is a mess because of it."

"Can't remember huh?" They exchanged a meaningful look. "Well, that's hardly surprising."

"It isn't?" Harry asked them confused.

"We're more surprised that you…well…." he looked to his twin uncertainly.

"Seem normal?" suggested George. "Weird, but normal."

"Was there something wrong with me?" he asked tentatively.

George looked at him incredulously before turning to his twin. "If there was something wrong with him he asks, Fred."

"You mean besides the fact that he didn't talk, moved, slept, spent all day drooling and oh I don't know, didn't breathe for hours?!" Fred asked his brother.

George nodded solemnly. "I think he means besides that."

"I-…What?" exclaimed Harry, feeling completely bewildered.

"Well, he talks now," Fred pointed out to his brother.

"Asks a lot of questions actually."

"Doesn't appear to be drooling either."

"Maybe he even sleeps now?" George asked in fake amazement.

"You think he has realized yet that people need oxygen to live?"

Harry just stared at them dumbly.

They finally turned back to him. "You know, you scared the shit out of us when we were kids."

"You didn't do anything. That's what creeped us all out. You didn't do _anything_. We were convinced you were braindead."

Harry perked up at that. Braindead. Wasn't that what Snape's tests had shown? That the pills should have rendered him braindead? A cold chill went down his spine. Heavens above, what if the tests had actually been correct?

"But our parents insisted to keep you. Said that one day you would save us all. We thought they had turned completely bonkers."

"The whole world was insane by then, so we didn't think much of it," Fred shrugged.

"Anyways, they're dead now." He stated it with a resigned, emotionless voice. Still, there was an underlining wrath in it that terrified Harry.

"As are our four brothers."

"And our little sister."

A dark realization dawned on Harry. _Two plus four plus one._ "Seven," he whispered.

They looked mildly surprised. "Weird _and_ quick."

"It's supposed to be symbolic," explained George, sounding a bit amused.

"We thought _if_ we have to be badass assassins then we wanted to do it right."

Oh great. Now he almost felt bad for telling them they failed spectacularly at that. Their symbolic number should have been six.

But if they had thought Ginny was long since dead, then they weren't searching for her and certainly hadn't seen her yet. So whatever had caused them to go on a killing spree, it wasn't the search for their lost sibling, it was revenge, the search for justice.

"What happened?" he asked quietly, too anxious to breath properly.

The twin's faces darkened. "It's a long story."

"A long, bloody story."

"And if you're looking for answers, you sure as hell won't find them with us," George informed him grimly.

Harry sighed. He had somehow suspected that would have been too easy. "Maybe not all, but definitely some. Could you come with me to the castle? There are some people who have the right to know that story as well."

"Sorry Harry, but we'd only approach that castle to kill the lord."

"We would say it's nothing personal…"

"…but we would be lying."

Harry frowned at that. "Has Voldemort done something to you?"

"Maybe, maybe not. It's complicated. He's a _lord_ ," George spat the word out like poison. "He dies."

"How would he have the right to know anything anyways?" asked Fred.

"Err…He kind of…was my babysitter. And he lost someone important because they were involved with me."

"Your lord was your babysitter?" George snorted incredulously.

Fred laughed. "Man that's just fucked up."

Harry smiled sheepishly. "I try not to think about it too much."

The twins sobered up a bit. "You might be able to convince us to tell you our story, but there's no way we'll have a civil conversation with a lord. Everyone has to choose a path eventually and we chose ours. For better and for worse."

Harry shook his head slowly, trying to discern their reasons. "Why? Why the lords? Why all of them?"

"You wouldn't understand, if you truly can't remember anything. We don't understand it completely either. But there is something going on, something big. And the lords are behind it, somehow. They are all…connected. Yet no one seems to see it. It almost drove us mad, until we decided to take matters into our own hands."

Harry frowned pensively. It appeared as if the twins knew about the true reason for the chaos, but their information was incomplete. It seemed that they found out about the connections between the lords on their own, but they didn't know enough to understand that there was a whole war going on between a guild and a resistance.

Their parents had belonged to the resistance, but apparently chose not to tell their kids the whole truth. Whatever happened to the twins, it was enough for them to realize that some lords manipulated this new world order, working together in secrecy, without anyone knowing.

And they must have thought they were the only ones to know their game. So they took it upon themselves to stop them. Two lost generations against a whole new society.

Harry involuntarily had to think of his own mother and her tiny research team. One women against the chaos, without any knowledge what exactly it was that she was doing.

The guild must have already noticed the twins. True, there was always a chance that they killed a lord that wasn't involved with them at all, but two assassins who targeted lords specifically and efficiently was bound to become a thorn in their sides.

But if the twins had no idea about the guild and what they were capable of, then they also had no idea about the true danger they were in.

"How about this?" Harry asked, having made his decision. "I tell you my part of the story, you can decide after that whether you still don't want to meet Voldemort."

They looked sceptical, but eventually they all sat down under the canvas and the twins even lay down their crossbows.

Again Harry found himself in the position to explain what seemed like a jumbled labyrinth of conspiracies.

He hadn't planned to tell them the whole story at first, but leaving them alone with their incomplete knowledge seemed wrong. Not to mention dangerous for both the twins and their targets. If they could actually concentrate their efforts on the involved lords alone, that would help the resistance considerably.

After finishing, Harry tried to gauge the twins reaction to the new information, but they were either very good at hiding their thoughts or they were genuinely at a loss of what to feel.

However, after hearing that Voldemort had already vowed to take down the guild's lords one by one, they agreed to follow Harry back to Hogwarts. After all, their goal was the same, even if they had slightly different motivations. A lord that hunted other lords seemed to be worth meeting.

They walked back to the castle, using the twin's nightvision goggles. They made the way considerably easier.

When they arrived at the door to Riddle's study, Harry turned back to the twins, suddenly realizing he had yet to tell them about Ginny. His recounting of the broader situation had somehow pushed all thoughts about the living sister aside.

"Before we enter, you should now that…err…I think... Lord Voldemort might have accidentally picked up…your sister."

They just stared at him, uncomprehending. "Our sister is dead."

"I'm pretty sure she isn't, you look way too similar for not being related."

There was a long pause while the twins seemed to consider this.

"Then _he_ is dead," they stated coldly, kicking the door open before Harry could react.

Well that could have gone better.

Snape and Ginny sat by the fireplace, watching their lord pace agitatedly across the room. All three froze when the door slammed open.

The twins didn't waste any time, pointing their crossbows at Riddle and releasing the arrows.

Riddle reacted incredible fast, sidestepping one and… _catching the other in his hand_?!

"What the actual fuck?!" cried Harry, ogling the arrow in Riddle's hand. "That's not humanly possible is it? What is _wrong_ with you?!"

Even the twins seemed momentarily stunned, which luckily prevented them from reloading.

"I apologize if me not dying is an inconvenience to you _Harry_ ," Riddle replied calmly, throwing the arrow to the ground. "But I don't plan to die anytime soon. I need to kill you before that."

"Err…"

"So," Riddle continued dangerously quiet. "You run without my permission into a dark forest to meet two mass murderers, decide to have a picnic with them and bring them back home as your best friends?"

"You babysit a newborn for a year, spend the next decade planning bloody revenge and eventually invite him into your group?" Harry shot back.

Riddle quirked an eyebrow. "Point taken."

The four other occupants of the room followed their exchange silently.

One of the twins - Harry believed it was Fred - seemed to have decided to reload his crossbow anyway, but Ginny carefully lay a hand on his and smiled happily up at him.

The three redheads stared at each other in awe.

"A family reunion, marvellous," commented Riddle drily.

Harry gave him a warning glance, before turning to the twins.

"Another lord found her and thought she could play with his son. He's a member of this group now. We didn't know who she was until I met her, after meeting you at the ball. She…doesn't talk much, we don't know what happened to her," Harry explained helplessly.

"We don't even know her name," George whispered hoarsely. "We got separated soon after she was born. There was no time to name her yet."

"We call her Ginny," Harry told them.

"Ginny…Gods, you must have seen mum. And Ron."

Ginny's smile disappeared and she pressed her lips tightly together.

Fred shook his head sorrowfully. "I can't even imagine it. I thought seeing dad was bad, but I never even dared to imagine mum."

"She must have been barely six years old, you think she remembers it all?" George asked his twin.

"Remembers what?" pressed Harry. He felt bad for prying, but if he didn't get some answers soon he would go crazy.

"The lords they…Well I guess it's the guild now…" Fred scratched his head thoughtfully.

"Are you sure he's not one of them?" His brother interrupted, nodding to Riddle.

Riddle just gave them a sharp, icy smile. "I don't need to explain myself to the likes of you."

Fred frowned suspiciously. "You seem awfully young for a lord."

"Don't mention it, he's sensitive about his age," sighed Harry, ignoring the dark look Riddle sent him.

The twins exchanged another look, apparently making their decision.

"We were barely four when the chaos started," George began. "We always were a big family, but one day dad brought another baby home, telling us it would be our new brother."

He looked at Harry. "You were the same age as Ron, our youngest brother. We already told you, you were a strange one. You didn't interact with anything or anyone. And sometimes you just…stopped altogether. I can't describe it better. You would get cold as ice and stare into nothingness. Sometimes we thought you stopped breathing althogether, but that's hardly possible is it?"

Harry frowned at that. What they described seemed exactly what his friends had described to him when they searched for the cause of his blackouts. Did that mean he had already begun to have them so young? But his friends had never mentioned that he didn't breathe.

"Times were hard, especially since our mum was pregnant with our sister. And with seven other children to feed…It soon became impossible."

"Bill and Charlie, our oldest brothers, were teenagers back then. They realized it was impossible for our parents to feed us all and decided to leave, trying to make it on their own. It almost destroyed our parents, seeing them leave."

"And then _they_ came," Fred spat. "We didn't know why, our parents never told us. They hunted us, targeted our family. Everyone had a tough time during the chaos, but we additionally had to deal with bloody killers. We were constantly on the run."

"It was too much for our mum," continued George. "We had to slow down so she could give birth to Ginny. A few days after that a whole group of them found us. Our mum gave you to us and told us to hide, then she took Ginny and Ron and ran for it. Our dad somehow managed to fend them off long enough to escape, taking us with him."

"We never saw mum, Ron or Ginny again. We lived with our dad and you for several years, doing our best to survive the chaos. Your condition never changed. By the time we were nine they caught us. Surprised us one night, capturing all of us."

They paused for a moment, crouching down next to Ginny.

"They took us to this weird underground dungeon. That's when we met our brothers again. Apparently they had been caught weeks ago. And then…" Fred seemed unable to continue.

After a while, George took over, his voice hollow. "They didn't just kill them, they made us watch while they opened their skulls. Made us listen to the screams for hours. We saw how they wrung out their brains."

Harry could feel the blood draining from his face. Even for the guild, that seemed excessively cruel.

"They told us they had done the exact same thing to our mother and our other siblings. And they told us other stuff, but we can't remember much of that. Something about sacrifices, humanity and lords. We can hardly remember anything, we just spaced out completely."

Fred went on. "They took us last and were just getting ready, but someone interrupted them. Something about having enough? I'm not sure, we were terrified. They left us and took you instead. You didn't even react, like always. We can't remember what happened after that but…Harry I think they gave you something."

Harry pinched the brick of his nose, a particularly nasty headache blooming behind his eyes. What was it with people experimenting on him?

"Once the new society began to establish, we started to glimpse the truth behind it. We met some of the men that had hunted us by accident, and they were all lords by then. We could see how everything seemed to be connected, organized, but we never imagined that a group of people planned the chaos. I think we can safely say the same group that hunted us also belonged to this guild. We've been tracking them down for years."

Harry sighed, thinking about Luna. "You've also killed some that had nothing to do with it, but I guess I can't blame you. After what happened to you it's understandable that you would blame all of them. Listen, if you want to put an end to this, then come with me to Grindelwald. From what we know he is the leader of the guild. Let me find out why he invited Voldemort, then do whatever you think is right."

He started massaging his temples. Gods his head was killing him.

"Are you alright Potter?" Snape asked him, watching his pained face with narrowed eyes.

"I'm fine. Just a headache."

"For now, we just want to take our sister to safety," Fred said, smiling tiredly at Ginny.

Harry considered this. "She's been safe here for months, where would you take her?"

"Look Harry, we don't blame you for what happened, but your story made it pretty clear that you've always been the target. Not our family. We just happened to have you. Our parents protected you for a reason and we'll see how we can help you, but for now we have to take some time off and think this through. We can't let Ginny be dragged into this again."

A wave of nausea hit Harry. The world started spinning in his head, making it hard for him to keep his balance.

"Potter," warned Snape, "Something is obvio-

 


	32. Chapter 32

 

Harry blinked.

The sight that greeted him was completely blank. Riddle, Snape, Ginny and the twins were gone. Hell, he wasn't even in the study.

He experienced a nauseating sense of vertigo as he realized that he wasn't standing anymore and he was actually staring at the white ceiling of the hospital wing.

What the hell?

A fraction of a second ago he had been in Riddle's study. He had blinked once, and suddenly was in a completely different location. There had been no trembling hands, no distraught thoughts, no blackness and there was no hunger now. So what on earth..?

He sat up and noticed Snape sitting next to his bed, observing him quietly.

"What happened? Where are the twins?" Harry asked, still trying to come up with an explanation as to how he had acquired the ability to teleport.

Snape didn't even move a muscle while he stared unblinkingly down at him.

"What? What's wrong?" Harry frowned, unnerved at his silent gaze.

Snape still made no inclination to respond.

Harry rolled his eyes. "What, did I black out? Scribble all over Riddle's books again? Did I mumble like a madman? Sorry I know it must be weird to watch but-…"

"You didn't have an episode," Snape interrupted him calmly, his eyes never leaving him.

Harry waited for him to continue, but when nothing else came forth he shrugged. "Well something obviously happened. I was just standing in Riddle's study, blinked and was here."

"You…simply collapsed," answered Snape after a while, clearly hesitant. "As if…struck by lightning."

"So I did black out!" Harry exclaimed in relief. Snape's strange behaviour had started to creep him out.

"Would you listen to me you dunderhead! I said you didn't have an episode," Snape scowled furiously.

Taken aback by his outburst, Harry shut his mouth and waited for him to continue.

"Apart from your headache there was no sign that anything was wrong with you. So when you collapsed the twins had no idea what happened, but Voldemort and myself obviously thought that they somehow triggered an episode."

Harry concentrated on what happened in the study, but came up blank. For the life of him he couldn't even remember that he fell. Let alone if he had gained any new knowledge.

"We waited at first, convinced that this must be the way all your blackouts start. But we also knew that you are actually quite lively and vocal during your blackout. So when you continued to just lay there I checked your pulse."

"A reasonable action," agreed Harry.

"It was gone."

Harry stared at him, trying to discern if he was joking. "…that's less reasonable."

Snape once again remained silent and Harry started to fidget nervously under his scrutinizing look.

"Okay you're starting to freak me out," he confessed when he couldn't bear the silence anymore.

"I'm freaking _you_ out?!" Snape spat incredulously and began pacing agitatedly along his bedside. "You didn't breathe, didn't have a heartbeat, didn't show any reflexes. By all medical definitions you were _dead_. We started CPR."

Harry felt his insides turning cold and his mind going numb. "You reanimated me?"

"You didn't give us much choice."

"So you saved me," Harry said slowly, the statement almost turning into a question at the end.

"We didn't."

"What do you mean you didn't? I'm obviously alive aren't I?"

"Obviously," Snape repeated sceptically. "Yet we failed to bring you back."

Harry gulped and took a moment to concentrate on his body. Nothing. He felt completely fine. He couldn't even remember that he lost consciousness, which made this even weirder.

 _Failed to bring you back_ … Goosebumps crawled up Harry's arms as the sentence rang in his head.

"Snape if you don't start talking I _will_ freak out," he managed to choke out.

"We must have tried for several hours at least, but your…condition…never changed. At one point it became illogical to try further so we…stopped. Voldemort was beside himself, he was convinced the twins did something. They took their sister and fled while we were preoccupied with trying to save you."

Strangely enough Harry's mind focused more on the fact that he had missed his chance for more answers from the twins. It took him a while to understand the rest of what Snape was saying.

"So what, I'm some kind of these zombie-thingies now?" he asked with a confused smile.

Snape remained perfectly serious. "You tell me, any craving for fresh brains?"

The smile died on Harry's lips. "That isn't funny."

"No it isn't. Potter I don't think you understood what I said. You. Were. Dead."

Harry pushed all thoughts about possible explanations as far away as he could and tried to concentrate on simple facts. "How long?"

Snape regarded him as if he were a complete idiot. "I don't know, I didn't exactly check if you _stayed_ dead. Imagine my surprise when I came back in the morning and saw by chance that you were breathing again."

"And you're sure that I was… err…" he trailed off, not able to bring himself to say it for real.

"Do you think I would walk up to lord Voldemort and proclaim you dead if I wasn't absolutely sure?" Snape sneered.

"Well I heard about near death experiences but-…"

"Potter I don't think several hours of cardiac arrest and complete depletion of oxygen counts as _near_ death. No one survives that."

"Okay, good point," Harry conceded warily. "But that doesn't explain why I'm feeling completely fine!"

"You think I understand what happened? All I know is that you're corpse lay on this bed for several hours before it decided to walk again. And walk you did! After ceasing to live you decided to decorate my walls!"

Snape waved his arm in the vague direction of the wall behind him. Harry slowly stood up and approached it, his eyes fixed on the wall.

The whole wall, parts of the floor and a bit of ceiling was covered in red scribbles. It wasn't his usual calculations though. It appeared to be a chemical formula, albeit a strange one that made no sense, which was repeated over and over again.

He had carved into his wooden shelves once during a blackout, but it had still been 'normal' notes. Words and numbers. He had never repeated the same thing even once. The formula before him was repeated at least a hundred times and Harry realized with a start that it must have been his blood that he used to write it.

It was also _wrong_. There were elements in it that did not exist and bindings that simply weren't possible. His calculations from a blackout were always hard to figure out, but he still managed to follow them partially. This formula…Harry had a feeling that it wasn't _his_.

He glanced back at Snape with a wry smile. "Well what can I say, I'm insane."

"Insanity doesn't give you immunity to death. Nor the permission to smear blood all over my walls," deadpanned Snape.

"Do you think my condition is worsening?" Harry asked, still looking at the wall.

"Worsening?" Snape shot back incredulously. "Potter, memories don't _do_ that. We know a prolonged blackout could potentially kill you, but you collapsed from one second to the other. Whatever this was, it wasn't one of your usual episodes. I can live with overactive brains and subconscious geniuses, but corpses coming back to life? Count me out."

Well Harry could hardly blame him for that could he? He had always been a weird case, but this was just too strange to comprehend. He was never able to remember his blackouts, but his head had always miraculously felt clear afterwards. He didn't feel anything now, didn't know anything.

He felt cheated. He _died_ and now there wasn't even a new piece of knowledge? That was just plain unfair.

"I better tell lord Voldemort you've woken up for good. Do try not to aggravate him any further."

"What is that supposed to mean?!" Harry exclaimed in disbelief. Why did he felt accused all of a sudden? Wasn't he the victim here?

"He sat by your bed for hours before holing himself up in his study. I only went down to tell him that inexplicably, you started living again. By then his study was…ah…trashed, to put it mildly."

"Err…" made Harry, not really sure what to think of that but knowing instinctively that it was _bad_.

He watched Snape leave with an uneasy feeling. Once alone, he tried to concentrate on the formula on the wall, but found himself pacing the room instead. Once every few seconds he caught himself glancing at the closed door.

He was…nervous.

He tried to imagine what Riddle must have thought, sitting beside his…body. Why did he sit there anyways? It's not like that would have helped anything. It just served to make him nervous now.

Making him wonder what _he_ would have done, if the roles had been reversed. What he would have felt. Feelings…ugh. Riddle didn't have them did he? Sure he could get angry alright, but he was a heartless bastard the rest of the time right? It didn't matter to him if one of his followers died. It was an inconvenience at best.

But he doesn't look at them the same way he does at you, doesn't he? A treacherous voice in his head whispered. He doesn't joke with them does he? Doesn't let them sleep in the same room. Doesn't go out of his way to spend time with them. Doesn't give them that smug smile. Doesn't bloody _kiss_ them.

Harry shook his head determined. No way, it had to be a game of him, a phase, nothing more. He loved to make Harry uneasy and got high on the power it gave him. Harry had to believe that. Otherwise-…

The door opened and Harry jumped in shock, inching reflexively away from it.

Riddle seemed calm. At least he wasn't trashing things. So far so good.

The lord closed the door behind him and fixed him with his gaze. Harry tensed, seeing something in them that wasn't supposed to be there…and a whole lot of fury.

"I should have strangled you at the inn," Riddle growled lowly.

"What?!" sputtered Harry, a small hint of indignation creeping into his tone. He had _just died_ for fuck's sake, before coming back to live. Didn't that warrant a pat on the shoulder and a 'good job weirdo'?

Riddle slowly stalked towards him, his red eyes alight with danger. "It would have solved many of my problems before they even began. How dare you put me through that."

Harry gradually backed away from him, until the back of his knees hit one of the beds and he couldn't get away further without looking completely silly.

Riddle came to a stop right in front of him, one of his hands sliding leisurely through Harry's messy hair to the back of his scalp, grabbing it there sharply.

Harry could feel his breath quicken and his pulse sped up, while he was unable to look anywhere but Riddle's red eyes.

"I did not give you permission to die," Riddle whispered fiercely, his breath tickling Harry's nose.

"And I, err…I didn't...?"

The fist behind Harry's scalp clenched further and Riddle additionally grabbed one of his wrists. Judging from the throbbing pain, Harry was pretty sure it would leave a bruise.

"Ow, stop it! You're hurting me."

"Good. Pain means you're alive."

Harry narrowed his eyes at him. "You're so full of shit Riddle, you can't punish me for something I had no control over."

"I can punish you for the way you make me feel."

Riddle suddenly tugged harshly at his scalp, making them tip over onto the bed behind Harry, his body practically burying Harry's smaller form.

And Harry hated, just hated, how he couldn't help but melt into the soft mattress and Riddle's warm body while the other claimed his lips.

Considering his unusual lack of resistance, Harry was surprised when Riddle only held the kiss for a short moment. The lord sighed and pulled himself partially upright, supporting himself with his arms that were placed to both of Harry's sides.

"I always hated death," Riddle began abruptly, making Harry frown in confusion. "From the moment I was able to grasp the concept I loathed it. How it limits life. A complete nothingness no one can escape from. No matter how hard we struggle, how hard we try to give our life meaning, in the end it reduces us to a lump of meat."

All thoughts about trying to wriggle out from underneath him escaped Harry and he held still instead, almost not daring to breath. They had had a few serious conversations before, but he had never heard him talk about anything so private. Lord Voldemort was confessing to a fear.

The intimacy both thrilled and frightened Harry.

"And then I lost my mother," Riddle continued, his face for once not blank but almost vulnerable. "And I realized that all this time I had never even thought about losing someone else. Death does not just limit our life, it also uses our tentative connections with others to torture us. By taking them away without warning, without any chance to fight back. And I hated death even more."

His hands suddenly moved to Harry's throat, putting only the slightest bit of pressure around it. Harry wasn't really afraid, but the unexpected move brought back memories and he could hear the blood rushing through his ears.

"And then I learned about the power it gives us. For death is not some conscious being but most often nothing but the result of other people or ourselves. The power to end someone's life, death gave it to everyone who learned how to yield it. I was intoxicated with its power once…"

He let go of Harry's throat. "But the pain was stronger still. And I look at all those laughing imbeciles, wondering how they can live so carefree while knowing it will all be for naught in the end."

Riddle held his gaze, while minutes passed by in silence. Harry somehow hoping and dreading he would continue.

When nothing happened, he took a deep, shaky breath. "If that was just a ploy to get me to cry, then I will _slaughter_ you, bastard."

Riddle seemed bewildered and Harry's heart constricted some more.

"You idiot," he whispered softly. "You cold, heartless, hopeless _fool_."

Riddle's eyebrows rose. "I'm afraid you'll need to elaborate, child."

"Death does not reduce our actions to nothingness, it is what gives life meaning in the first place. True nothingness? Endless life, for nothing will matter in a neverending existence. Yes we might not like to think about our end, but is it not death that motivates us all in everything we do? To make it count before we go. To leave something behind. To enjoy the moment, because we know it won't last forever."

Harry had to suppress a smile when he saw Riddle's furrowed forehead. "And while I do agree that losing someone is torture, the pain you hate so much is the very proof of their lives. The proof of _your_ life. The remnant of the connection you shared. I am not one to make those connections easily, but jeez…you're _way_ worse off than me."

Riddle sighed. "Child…You have yet to make the most dangerous connection of them all. You wouldn't say those things if you knew the destruction it leaves behind."

Like a trashed study. Harry gulped. This conversation was getting a bit _too_ intimate for his liking. Besides, did he have to make that connection? Or has he made it already?

"Do you know what death _is_?" he asked instead.

"No matter what pretty things you'll say, I still think it is nothingness. And I was never one for religious beliefs."

"Biologically speaking then. Scientifically proven, you'll like it."

Riddle shrugged. "The stop of all brain function? The loss of all conscious thought and thus the very awareness of life itself? Not to mention all the organ failures that come with it."

Harry snorted. "You're always so negative. It is equilibrium. Your body is constantly in disequilibrium. Each and every single cell depends on chemical gradients, the flux of ions, potentials along the membranes, stress. It is the very definition of life. The only time a cell is in equilibrium is when it's dead."

Riddle seemed to consider his answer. "That's unexpectedly philosophical of you."

"I like it. It sounds peaceful, somehow."

"The result is still the same. I don't care if your cells reached enlightenment or if it was the grim reaper himself that knocked you down. You are not allowed to just… _leave_ ," growled Riddle.

Harry chewed his lower lips anxiously. He felt fine, had no recollection of doing something as drastic as dying. But what if he had? No heartbeat, no breathing… then what was he to make of Riddle's reaction? The cruel bastard actually seemed to find it in himself to care. And Harry just couldn't hold in the fond smile any longer.

"What is there to smile about?"

Instead of answering, Harry pushed himself up a bit to give him a chaste kiss.

"You know, I'm ten years younger than you. According to the statistics there's a good chance you die before me. So don't worry, you probably won't be the one being left behind."

Riddle was clearly not convinced. "You are reckless and there is…"

"What? Something wrong with me?" He craned his neck to give the bloodied wall a pointed look. "Yeah you could say that."

Riddle muttered something under his breath and crashed their lips together again, this time deepening the kiss. Harry was soon lost in the sensations while his body started to heat up. He was still bewildered at his own reactions, but he grew more and more accustomed to didn't prevent him from breaking their kiss and glaring at Riddle as the other casually lay a hand on the growing bulge in his jeans.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked suspiciously.

Riddle gave him his best innocent look that was completely ruined by his smirk. "Living in the moment."

"You're such a hypocrite!" he laughed, while trying to maintain his glare. "Don't just turn a philosophical debate into _that_!"

"I didn't hear a 'no' in there," the lord answered and squeezed his hand a bit more.

Harry jolted before taking a deep breath to steady himself and pushed him more firmly away. "We have things to do, we've lost too much time already. Plans to make. Stuff to build. A senseless formula to figure out."

He stood up and went over to the bloodied wall again.

Riddle sighed displeased. "There's always something with you is there?"

Harry gave him a reproachful look. "Despite all the 'pretty things' I said, I do not want to send you to your death."

Riddle cocked his head at that and stood up as well, coming over to Harry. He grabbed him from behind, bringing his mouth close to Harry's ear. "Would you cry for me, _Harry_?"

Harry tensed from the closeness. "Why do you suddenly sound so gleeful?"

"I guess you converted me. Everyone should just love me and mourn my death for all eternity."

Harry snorted. "You really are an idiot. No sane person would think about his own death as a mean to inflict pain on others."

"You have no right to say that. Do you have any idea what you put me through the past few hours?"

Harry did feel a pang of guilt for what happened, but he resolutely shook his head to chase these thoughts away. It's not like he had done anything on purpose.

"Come on, I'll show you what I figured out so far from my notes, that will cheer you up," he said instead, hoping it would divert Riddle's attention.

He was starting to get a bit uncomfortable with Riddle's behaviour. This…grabbiness…of his was new. And he would freely admit that it unnerved him. It would be safer to give Riddle something else to occupy his thoughts.

The look Riddle gave him showed clearly that the other knew exactly what Harry was trying to do, but he followed him out of the hospital wing anyways.

"I thought the day you invited me to your rooms would never come," remarked Riddle while they climbed the stairs.

"What are you talking about? You already were in my rooms. Besides, you technically own the castle."

Riddle chuckled. "You really are clueless."

Harry rolled his eyes as they entered the dormitory on the seventh floor. They both stopped at the entrance, staring at the disarray. Because of everything that had happened, Harry hadn't had the time to pick up the papers and the notes were still spread out on the floor. Since he was already prone to disorder, it completed the chaos.

Harry met Riddle's disapproving stare. "Err, that is hardly my fault. A certain snake interrupted me and then the twins and…um…other things-…"

"You died," provided Riddle, obviously still not completely over it.

"Yes, that," Harry waved dismissively. "So I don't have much yet, but I just wanted to know what you-… Now where is it? It should be somewhere underneath here – ah."

He brushed a few sheets of notes away and held two identical handles up for Riddle's inspection.

"So when we got here I obviously started re-creating the sword we saw at the ball – that would be this one."

He handed the right one to Riddle and the familiar red blade lit up.

"And during the blackout I thought about what the biggest problem is with this challenge..." He blushed. "…amongst other things."

"We're heavily outnumbered?" Riddle guessed.

"Yes, but our real problem is that it's a trap. The baron knows we can make the swords, thanks to our friends in the guild. And they will assume we will build them and surprise them with it."

"Except they won't be surprised," Riddle pointed out.

Harry nodded. "No. In fact they would slaughter us. So the biggest problem is that they expect us to fight with the swords, but we can't use them for the element of surprise. However if we try something else…"

"…They will know something is wrong instantly," Riddle finished.

"Exactly. On the other hand if we do everything according to their plan they will feel safe and let their guard down."

"So we…do everything according to their plan?" From Riddle's tone it was clear he wasn't exactly convinced of that train of action.

"Mhm, well more or less," Harry grinned and set his own blade free. It was blue.

"Stylish," remarked Riddle drily.

Harry nonchalantly swung the blade directly at Riddle's head, making sure to give him enough time to react. The lord lazily held up his red one to block it.

Blue met red…And went right through, coming to a quivering stop right at Riddle's throat. Red eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in thought.

"Now I might not be the best man to ask about people's behaviour," Harry conceded, "but I think it's safe to say that 99.9% of the human population would have reacted in the exact same way as you."

He lowered the blade and let the other contemplate for a while.

"Clever," Riddle agreed after a while. "However, we will have the same problem as them, once they realize the mistake."

Harry grinned at him and took a fighting stance. "Try me."

Riddle didn't lose a second, making a stabbing motion towards Harry's heart. Harry pressed the small button again and his blade turned red instantly, deflecting the attack normally.

The lord stared at his own blade, then at the one in Harry's hand. "It's the colour."

Harry scoffed. " _Colour_. It's called electromagnetic wavelength. But this is _light_ we are talking about. It has both properties of a wave _and_ of a particle. Gives you a headache if you think about it really. Anyways, these swords exploit light as a particle, which basically means a wave can now also repel matter, turning them into blades. You can do it with any wavelength…or colour if you prefer…and the result will be the same, but as you just saw it has unexpected effects on each other."

He touched Riddle's blade with his own, still red one and they repelled each other. Then he switched back to blue and demonstrated how it went past the other one with no resistance.

"Red is about 700 nm long, while blue is only about 430 nm. Calculate the exact right length, amplitude and frequency of the wave and they will cancel each other out, or amplify themselves, much like a sound wave. If you're interested in the physics behind it, well…"

He threw the scattered notes around them a pointed look. "I'm afraid you're on your own, since I've only understood about half of it."

Which was kind of frustrating since he was the one who came up with them in the first place. It was as if he had been confronted with a much smarter rival, only that rival was Harry himself.

Riddle blinked at him. "So…it _is_ the colour."

Harry let out an exasperated huff. "Fine, it's the bloody colour! Whatever! You have no respect for science. You don't even deserve thes-…"

Riddle shut him up with a kiss. "It's brilliant. They can't defend themselves against us but we can. It will cause pure chaos."

He went to sit down on the couch, still inspecting the blade, switching it on and off.

Harry flushed, partially from the warm feeling of his lips and partially from the praise.

"Well, err, it's simple, but um…The last one was simple as well so… I mean I did think about using the paint again, just to be sure, but they'll probably expect that as well and like…throw water at us or something so…And I could probably invent some protective clothes as well, but then you would run around in glowing suits and it's not like I have that much material…I mean-…"

"Come here child," interrupted Riddle amused.

Harry let his blade disappear and warily approached the couch, stopping a few steps in front of it. Riddle smirked and patted the couch next to him. Harry awkwardly sat down and fidgeted under his stare. No matter how many times he had been exposed to it, Riddle's burning eyes and smug smirk always managed to unsettle him.

"You told me that if I were to force you, you would become my enemy."

Harry stared at him stupidly for a second, then his eyes widened as he realized what Riddle was talking about. He bolted upwards, but Riddle was faster, catching his wrist and yanking him down again. After a short struggle, Harry found himself pinned under Riddle's weight, with his wrists secured above his head.

Riddle's face loomed incredibly close over him, their lips practically brushing but never touching. The lord took a moment to straddle his legs more securely.

"See I think you just proved that you'd be too dangerous for an enemy," he murmured huskily.

Harry turned his face away from his and Riddle took the opportunity to gain access to his ear. His tongue sensually licked across it and Harry shuddered. It tickled a bit and he tried his hardest to hold in the giggle mixed with whimpers that bubbled up in him.

"So you'll have to say yes." Riddle's whisper sounded loud so close to his ear.

"W-what?" he choked out, nervousness, fear and anticipation swirling inside him.

He could feel Riddle's smirk on his ear. One of Riddle's hands glided underneath his shirt, sliding up and down his torso. The trembling became worse.

"You made me suffer so much _Harry_ …Take some responsibility."

Harry wondered briefly how on earth any of this was his fault or how this counted as taking responsibility, but his thoughts soon vanished as Riddle kissed him again. He jerked his head to the side again, panting.

"That's- that's not fair. You can't just take…advantage…like that."

He had to close his mouth to stop the moan that threatened to break free as Riddle's mouth attacked his throat instead.

"I still don't hear a 'no'," Riddle crooned.

Harry bit his lip anxiously. Riddle stopped momentarily and sat up a bit further to look at him.

"Normally I would just continue, as long as you didn't scream in protest. But I don't want you to get any funny ideas afterwards so I'm afraid abstaining from your answer is not acceptable. So…"

He leaned in closer again, their noses almost touching. "Say yes."

Harry stared transfixed into his burning eyes, still panting, still trembling and a whirlwind of emotions obscuring any clear thoughts.

Riddle's grip on his wrists tightened. "Say yes, Harry."

Harry gulped before opening his mouth and even while his lips formed the word, he didn't know what his answer would be in the end.

"Yes."

Riddle's smirk widened and Harry realized with a sinking feeling that his diversion plan had gone horribly wrong.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah... I'm just going to drop that off here. Ahahahaa, have a nice day! (Don't think about too gruesome ways to kill me pls?)
> 
> Oh and also: the stuff Harry said about the blades makes absolutely zero sense, but uhm...whatever, it sounded impressive to me^^.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say hello to the most uncomfortable chapter ever (for me)! Really, I'm not made for this… I don't know how everyone else does it. And how the hell do they keep their figures in character during-…during-…that?! Why did I rate this M again? Why did I think this was a good idea? Why did I end last chapter so that only one inevitable course was possible? ARGH, so many questions! *cries in a corner*
> 
> **Warning:** I'd like to (unnecessarily) remind everyone that this story is rated **M** because of…ahem, reasons… If you're feeling a bit squeamish or have all kinds of other possible reasons: scroll down until you see the first break line, you should be safe after that!  
>  **Edit:** A few reviewers have pointed out that Harry never explicitly states his consent. When reading, please keep in mind that Harry's reluctance is part of his character, not actual unwillingness. Also this is _fiction_ \- their relationship is not meant to be transferred to the real world.
> 
> Thank you so much for reviewing last chapter :D!
> 
> Enjoy..? I guess..?

.

"I did _not_ agree to this!" Harry cried, while frantically trying to wriggle out of Riddle's grasp.

The damn bastard only chuckled while he continued to work the buttons of Harry's jeans. "You're just in denial. It will pass."

"Like hell it will!" denied Harry outraged. "You tricked me!"

He had let his guard down for one second. One second! That bloody bastard! He had just looked so…vulnerable, almost, after Harry's weird episode. How dare he took advantage like that!

He was about to protest some more, but Riddle's hand started rubbing his member through the clothes and Harry's head slammed back on the couch from the pleasant jolts that the action sent through his body.

"You have done at least this much yourself I hope?" asked him Riddle amused.

"I was a…perfectly healthy teenager…. We have…issues in the morning," replied Harry, concentrating on keeping his breath steady.

"Hmm," made Riddle, never ceasing in his administrations. "Any recent issues?"

"Why?"

"Did you think about me?" Riddle teased and Harry's face flushed scarlet.

"The fuck I did!"

"Why, I'm honoured."

"I said I didn't!" he protested.

"Then I guess it's up to me to change that fact right?"

Riddle had managed to loosen his jeans and was now tugging at them. The process was slowed down by the fact that he had only one hand available and that Harry was squirming away from him.

By now Harry's foggy mind had been able to process the situation he was in and he was slightly panicking. He would have pushed Riddle away, but sadly his wrists were still firmly secured above his head.

Riddle apparently found his useless resistance highly entertaining. "Stop fidgeting child."

"Yeah could we go back to planning manslaughter? I think that's a bit more up my alley," Harry breathed out nervously.

_And a lot less scary._

"I think we have an hour to spare."

"The average time of intercourse is barely above 5 minutes, what the hell are you planning one hour for?"

Riddle temporarily stopped in his tugging to stare at him blankly.

"What?" Harry snapped grouchily, "I read."

Riddle chuckled and resumed his task, finally pulling his jeans free. "Oh nothing. I'm trying hard not to feel insulted that you think me average."

He put a hand on the hem of Harry's pants and Harry doubled his struggle. "Woah, okay okay, stop! Timeout!"

"I really don't see why you are making such a fuss. You forget I've seen it before."

Harry's whole body tensed up in horror as he realized Riddle was talking about his baby days. "Ew. That's… _ew_! You need help Riddle, seriously."

Riddle rolled his eyes. "I was eleven. Don't worry, even I was innocent once."

He grabbed his pants more securely.

"I said timeout!" screeched Harry in panic.

Riddle sighed and let go. Both of them stared at Harry's pants for a while before Riddle looked up. "You are thinking entirely too much about this."

"Thinking is what I _do_."

"Hmm," Riddle smirked. "Well luckily for you I know how to distract you."

He bent further down and claimed Harry's lips again. Despite Harry's best efforts to stay focused, his mind became hazy again from the pure onslaught of sensations. He shuddered as his now completely naked legs brushed against Riddle's.

His eyes snapped open when he realized that Riddle had succeeded in tugging his pants down as well. Sneaky bastard.

"Not fair," he panted.

Riddle didn't look sorry at all. "Everything is permitted in love and war."

Harry frowned. "I'm confused, is this love or war?"

"Shall we find out?"

He started working on his own belt and Harry's eyes went wide. "Oh nono, it was a stupid question, I don't want to know the answer. Really," he assured the lord quickly.

"You're talking too much again."

And Riddle's lips were on his again. This was definitely happening too often nowadays. But between Riddle's tongue and the burning touches of his hands, Harry couldn't muster enough attention to care. It took him a conspicuous amount of time to notice that there were in fact two hands roaming over his body. Riddle had finally let go of his hands.

Somehow Harry forgot that the purpose of his arms was to push him away and used them to pull him even closer instead. The lazy smirk of Riddle's lips on his was enough to stir his fighting spirits again and his hands on Riddle's back formed claws. Judging from the widening of the lord's grin, it did not have the intended effect.

So he pulled at his hair instead, forcing Riddle's head away from his. This had the disadvantage that Riddle's eyes could meet his again and wander freely over his body, which made the situation just that much more embarrassing. Harry let go almost instantly. He could feel Riddle's chest moving rapidly on top of him and he realized the other was laughing.

"Bastard-.. Hnn."

Riddle was focusing on his ear again and the bloody cartilage structure was just too damn sensitive.

"You can moan if you want," Riddle whispered in his ear.

"I hate you." Harry bit his lip, even more determined to stay silent.

"Your dishevelled appearance disagrees."

Harry flushed embarrassed. "I'm tousled because I'm trying to get away from you, pervert."

"Is that what you've been trying to do?" Riddle asked in fake surprise. "I thought you were creating more friction."

Harry hissed angrily and tried to rear up, but Riddle's body was too heavy for him.

Riddle only laughed. "So energetic, child. Let's find a better use for that vigour."

He leaned more heavily on him and the hand that had previously been on his thigh moved up to prod at his entrance.

The sharp pain caused Harry to suck in a startled breath. " _What_ are you doing?"

"Preparation."

He pushed in again and Harry squirmed away from it. "Is that supposed to feel good?!"

"Not yet, just bear with it for a moment."

Harry glared at him. "It _burns_."

"Yes, I suppose it does…" Riddle murmured contemplative. He pulled out and held his finger up in front of Harry. "Lick it."

Harry stared at him incredulously. " _That_ was just in my anus, not by my choice mind you. You're insane if you think I'd put that in my mouth. Do you have any idea what kind of bacteria are currently forming colonies on your skin?"

Riddle sighed resigned. "You're so complicated."

"Oh? Well lick it yourself then!" he snapped.

As Riddle nonchalantly put the finger in his own mouth, Harry realized he should not have said that.

You could lick a finger and then you could _lick_ a finger. He could only stare transfixed as Riddle swirled his tongue around the digit, all the while sending Harry looks that even _his_ brain managed to decipher as suggestive.

Thoroughly embarrassed and uncomfortable, he turned his head away. "D-do you need to- do it like, err, like that? It's- it's not really, uh, efficient."

"Think you can do better?" asked Riddle pleasantly, tapping the blasted finger against Harry's lips.

Harry pressed his lips tightly together and shook his head vehemently. With a devilish gleam in his eyes, Riddle gave the finger a final lick right on Harry's lips. Harry clenched his eyes shut while his body quivered.

The saliva helped ease the burn, reducing the piercing pain to a dull ache and Riddle managed to distract him enough to slip the whole finger in.

Harry scrunched his face up at the strange feeling. When nothing else happened he warily opened one eye again. "Now what?"

Riddle snorted. "I really can't tell whether you're eager or not. But since you're asking anyways, I'd say at least another finger to make sure I can stretch you enough. Maybe I'll even find your prostate, which would make everything a lot easier once I've inserted my cock. Pleasure would come much faster if I already knew where to aim while fu-..."

"Alright, alright! Too much information! I didn't ask for a step by step instruction!" Harry interrupted horrified.

"A simple kiss sent you into a coma, I find it only prudent to prepare you mentally as well, child."

"You have a finger up my ass and still dare to call me child?" Harry hissed annoyed.

"Just keep bickering, I do so enjoy it. I'll have you incoherent soon enough."

Riddle crooked his finger slightly and Harry jerked at the unfamiliar sensation.

"There's no way this ends pleasurable," he stated with conviction.

"Of course it does. That's why so many people do it."

"Considering your finger will be replaced by an on average 4cm thick…err, object…I highly doubt it. Well, at least it was the average back in the first century of the second millennia. I read it. It's amazing what they all measured. Really, the statistics. Did you know that in a country called Sweden people had on average 1.9 legs? It's because you can have less than two legs, but not more, so the average-…"

"You _really_ need to stop thinking," Riddle cut him off amused.

He grabbed Harry's legs and readjusted their posture, so that he was now sitting between Harry's legs.

Harry stiffened when he felt Riddle's slickened cock between his arse cheeks. "W-wait, what happened to the second finger?"

Riddle grinned wickedly. "Change of plans."

"You can't do that! Mental preparation remember?!"

He tried to squirm away but Riddle's hands held his hips firmly in place.

How had his day turned out like that?! This was way too bizarre. And why was he sweating with a burning urgency, yet shivering with anxiousness?

"Just relax," crooned Riddle.

Harry shot him a venomous glare. "I told you, I won't just lie here obediently."

Riddle snorted and started fretting against his arse crack. The feeling of his hot hardness against exposed skin sent jolts of need across Harry's whole body and he was once again forced to bite his lips to hold the whimpers in.

Riddle smirked at his reactions. "You're a hundred years too early to do anything else."

"You're just ten years older, not one hundred," Harry pointed out, once he got his panting a bit under control.

Riddle rolled his eyes and followed up with a roll of his hips. "It's an expression."

"Well it's _wrong_!"

Riddle suddenly jerked forward and Harry found himself completely deprived of oxygen. It took him a second to even realize what happened. Then he cried out in pain, his fingernails digging into Riddle's back, tearing the shirt and possibly drawing blood, but Harry had other things to worry about; he had just been split into two.

Riddle adjusted himself ever so slightly and the small motion robbed him of his breath again.

"Don't move! Don't you dare move!" Harry yelled at him furiously, caught between screaming and sobbing.

He certainly couldn't sob in front of the bastard, so he opted for screaming curses at him.

"Alright, no moving," Riddle assured him placably, when Harry stopped to catch his breath.

"What the fuck…How…did it turn out…like this? I was…dead…this morning…wasn't I?" he pressed out through gritted teeth.

Riddle pulled halfway out before thrusting back in, making Harry cry out again. "I said don't move!"

"Just reminding you that you aren't dead."

"I know I'm not! You're the one that keeps insisting I was!"

"You were," Riddle growled and gave another thrust. "You were and made me think you left me behind."

Between Riddle's bruising grip and the blinding pain of the thrusts, there really wasn't much Harry could do. Though with every thrust the pain seemed to ebb away a bit more. He knew it was probably Riddle's precum that eased his entrance. He had no idea why this realization made his body burn even hotter, even though it should have disgusted him.

His cries of pain were replaced by small whimpers and the friction his own cock received from Riddle's belly every time the lord moved was enough to drive him mad.

Riddle seemed to notice that he was relaxing and began to thrust deeper and faster. The receding pain was soon overruled with bliss. He didn't care what everyone said about him being dead. He had never felts so alive before. Yet Harry could feel his muscle starting to cramp again as pleasure began to rake over him just as brutally as the pain before and something deep inside of him started to build up.

"Ngh, I think…I-I'll have a-...ha…a blackout."

Riddle's body shook from laughter and Harry disturbingly could feel it on and _in_ him. "That's what I would call a proper orgasm, silly genius."

Riddle momentarily paused in his thrusting to haul Harry even closer to him. Then he bent down to kiss him deeply. "Hurry up and fall for me already, _Harry._ Make my heart race when you scream out my name."

Harry clenched his teeth together while he tried and failed to scowl at Riddle as the other resumed his thrusts. He hated how helpless he was against the pleasure, which Riddle delivered so expertly. Maybe that was why he had tried to evade him for so long. He had known how powerless he would be when Riddle finally had his way with him.

He consoled himself with the knowledge that it couldn't be helped, that this had been inevitable from the beginning, at least for the first time. But damn Riddle to hell, he didn't even look out of breath. Still so in control, while he took him almost casually. And yes, Harry now realized just what exactly that peculiar expression meant.

"I hate you," he cursed as the pleasure started to coil around his groin. "Do you hear me Tom? I bloody hate you, bastard!"

Riddle's eyes were ablaze with feral delight. "Hate me more. Let it consume you and give yourself to me. Let it burn you until I'm the only thing left."

Harry shut his eyes an bit his lips against the wave of pleasure that hit him, determined not to scream out like Riddle wanted. He couldn't control the spasms though, nor the very obvious ejaculation between their bodies.

Riddle snarled while his movements became more jerky. "Insolent child. Must you always do the opposite of what you're told?"

Harry would have loved to give a snappish reply, but his mind was still too far gone in sluggish bliss to form any words. He could only wait until Riddle's body stiffened above him, releasing himself and slumping down next to him.

For what seemed like an eternity, the only sound Harry could perceive was Riddle's heavy breathing against his ear. He allowed himself a small smile. At least he was out of breath after all.

He twisted his hips experimentally, frowning at the dull pain the action brought him and at the wetness he could feel between his legs.

Never mind, it was quite disgusting after all. But he was too exhausted and boneless to care properly.

He could hear Riddle sigh and felt him start to get up. Harry tightened his hold.

Riddle quirked a surprised eyebrow. "I told you, I don't cuddle."

"I guess we're both liars then. Now shut up, I'm sleepy."

Riddle snorted but stayed where he was, staring into Harry's slowly closing eyes.

"What are you doing to me, _Harry_?"

.

* * *

.

"Sit up straighter Mr Potter!"

_Oh you've got to be kidding me._

"I am sitting straight," he pressed out through clenched teeth, trying to ignore the stabbing pain that shot through him every time the horse took a step.

Riddle's humour proved to be positively malicious, as expected. It had taken Harry several tries to stand up this morning, without feeling like he'd been impaled through the hips, and he had already dreaded Lucius' usual rigid torture with table manners.

But no…Lucius had brought him outside to the horse stable instead. Lord Voldemort had made a slight change in his education plans; today Harry would learn how to ride.

_Hatehimhatehimhatehim-…_

"I know it might be more comfortable like this, but I assure you once you've spent several hours on horseback, a wrong posture will leave you aching all over," Lucius continued.

_I am already aching!_

Harry gritted his teeth and grudgingly straighten his spine a bit more.

"Am I doing it right father?" Draco asked proudly and Lucius strode over to look at his posture.

Draco was riding on a pony behind Harry and could not have been more enthusiastic about the unexpected riding lesson. Harry had to admit that he had rarely envied someone so much. The pony was small, compliant and overall adorable.

The horse Lucius had brought Harry was a tall, sturdy mare with a pitch black fur and an evil spirit matched only by Riddle himself. She had promptly head-butted him when he hesitantly tried to pet her nose and continued to do everything except listening to his commands.

Considering her dark, shining colour, her impressive stature and the fact that she was a horse of group Voldemort, Harry had been sure she would carry an imposing name like 'Shadow of Doom' or something alike.

Bellatrix had named her Betty.

The irritable women had graciously offered to cancel today's fighting lessons to give Harry more time learning how to ride. She also sat on the railing of the volte, lazily watching their progress. Her grin seemed to grow every time she saw Harry wince.

"Alright now try going into trot," Lucius instructed.

As Betty changed her tempo, Harry was sure he would die from the sheer pain all the bumping around caused.

"Don't bounce in the saddle like that! Remember to move up and down according to her natural rhythm."

"Oh yes, it's all about the rhythm," Bellatrix chirped in cheerfully. "Be sure to go down _deep_ while moving your pelvis. _Feel_ the saddle-…"

"Bella…" Lucius warned exasperated.

"Am I doing it right fa-…"

"Draco, what did I tell you about listening to your aunt?"

Harry managed to force his horse back into a slow walk and he glared at Bella as he passed her. She winked.

"You're evil," he whispered to her.

She grinned coyly. "That blush looks cute on you, lordling."

"I have very sensitive skin, it's a sunburn!"

"Oh I'm sure our lord can be quite…burning."

She cackled as he quickly averted his face, thoroughly embarrassed. As Lucius ordered them once again into a trot, Harry longingly looked over to Rosier.

It had turned out that Rosier was already quite the decent rider. While Harry had his first lesson within the volte, Rosier was galloping across the fields, training himself to shoot targets from horseback.

The important point being that he was alone, free of Bella's relentless taunting or pain.

Another stab caused Harry to hunch over again, earning him another reproachful lecture of Lucius.

The torture continued until lunch and by then Harry was even more sore than before and starving. He had missed breakfast, since the bastard hadn't woken him, and wasn't able to sneak something from the kitchen because he had run into Lucius.

At least everyone else had been allowed to eat breakfast, so no one was pissed at Harry for not turning up. He was sure his repeated absence had been noted though.

He was finally allowed to get off the horse and was instructed to bring her back to the stable. Betty only trampled on his foot once on the way back. He counted it as a victory.

Bellatrix was waiting for him at Hogwarts' entrance, leaning against the stone wall while watching him hobble up the slope.

"You're walking so stiff lordling, I can't quite tell if it was Betty or-..."

"I've spent hours on that bloody horse and the beast was intent to kill me!" he interrupted irritated.

They entered the great hall and Harry's eyes were involuntarily drawn to Riddle, sitting at the middle of the head table. The lord was putting everyone on edge, as he was all but radiating satisfaction.

Feeling annoyed and slightly panicky, Harry quickly hurried over to Rosier, intent to avoid the head table once again.

Bellatrix had other plans. She promptly grabbed him by his collar and dragged him to the end of the hall.

"What are you doing?" he whined, while he longingly looked back at the other tables.

"Following orders."

She roughly pushed him into his chair and grinned when he winced again. She wasn't the only one.

"Good morning _Harry_."

Harry couldn't even look him into the eyes. "Whatever it is you're thinking about, stop."

"Just…reminiscing," Riddle said dreamily.

"I hate you."

"You mentioned it. Once or twice…" he leaned over sensually. "Or every time I thrust into you."

Harry suppressed a shudder. "I said stop it!"

Riddle let out a sigh and started eating, thus giving permission to the rest of the group to start their lunch as well.

"How was your lesson?" Riddle asked, his tone suspiciously normal.

Harry stabbed his fork into the wooden table in a fit of anger. "That sounded almost casual."

"Almost?"

"Yes, your hand sneaking to my thigh is everything but."

"Ah," made Riddle unperturbed, giving no inclination to move the offending hand away.

"Just because I lowered my guard once does not mean you get to toy with my body whenever it pleases you. I still need it as transportation for my head."

Riddle chuckled. "I won't break it."

"I feel like something is trying to split me into half every time I move a wrong muscle!" Harry hissed at him, careful not to shout for anyone to hear. "And why do you look so smug now?!"

Riddle's expression had turned even more satisfied. "I'll take it as a compliment."

"It's an accusation! Damnit, why do I still not understand half of what you're saying? So shagging doesn't give me any gain of knowledge either? Well, that's disappointing."

Riddle seemed taken aback for a short moment, then he took a sip of his drink to cover up his smile. "How rude _Harry_. You do not walk up to your partner and tell them it was disappointing to their faces."

"Err…No that- that wasn't…I mean- I didn't mean- like that, just, uhm…" he stammered flustered.

"No matter," Riddle said pleasantly while he gripped Harry's thigh firmer. "Challenge accepted."

"I-…T-that was not what I meant, idiot!" he exclaimed horrified.

He saw many members turn their faces towards them and slumped back into the chair.

He kept silent after that and did his best to show no outer reaction whatsoever whenever Riddle tried to engage him into a conversation again. Really, the lord needed to lose some of that smugness before Harry even considered talking to him again.

When lunch was finished, he stormed off before Riddle could hold him back.

He was in the process of climbing up the stairs to his dorms, when he walked past the hospital wing. He remembered the weird formula and wondered if Snape had already cleaned it up. It didn't matter either way, he could clearly see it every time he closed his eyes.

He had already taken some more steps when he suddenly remembered that he had no clue in what condition Voldemort's torture victim was in. For all he knew, Rowle was still in the hospital wing. All the other things that had happened had pushed the man out of Harry's mind.

He turned back around and headed to the door.

As expected, the only one present was Snape, who greeted him with a minimal nod before continuing to chop up plants.

Harry noticed that his insane, bloody message had been left on the wall and Harry quickly tore his gaze away. The strange thing made him uneasy.

"How is Rowle?" he asked Snape.

Snape reluctantly looked up from his chore but remained silent. Not good. The man had a way of communicating with his eyes when he knew Harry wouldn't like the answer.

Harry brusquely walked over to the secluded bed in the corner, hidden partially by a shabby curtain. He pushed it aside.

The bed was empty and freshly made, no sign of anyone having ever slept in it.

" _Where_ is Rowle?" Harry corrected darkly.

Snape shrugged. "Gone."

"He was still alive!" Harry shouted angry, but already knew that it was too late now.

"He merely stared into space, nothing else, not even some basic reactions. There was no sign of improvement."

Harry scowled at him. "So you just…disposed of him? What kind of physician are you?!"

"One that follows orders," Snape replied calmly.

Harry pressed his lips together and spun around, towards the exit.

"Potter!" Snape clutched his arm with surprising strength and held him back. "Lord Voldemort didn't want to tell you because he knew how you would react."

"Oh great, that will save me from explaining then," Harry retorted exasperated.

"He wanted to-…" Snape broke off and paused for a moment. "I _think_ he wanted to protect you. In his own way anyways."

"From what?!"

"You are a naïve little fool, Potter!" Snape sneered and roughly released his arm. "And I'm not just saying that as an insult. You possess something many of us lost during the chaos. An inherent reluctance to kill. Sympathy for complete strangers. I don't know how you did it with everything that has happened to you, but you somehow remained…innocent."

Harry returned his sneer. "I build weapons to hurt and kill people. I design plans that allow us to take out as many opponents as possible. A life is often nothing more than a mere number in my head!"

"Then why are you so upset when faced with the consequences? You didn't know Rowle. He was tortured by one of your devices yes, but you are no less responsible for his fate than you are for the other faceless numbers."

"Rowle was a member of this group! And he wasn't dead, wasn't even sick!" Harry exclaimed frustrated.

"He was a cripple! You know only the strong survive in this world. You know killing him was better than to maroon him somewhere and let him die slowly on his own," Snape said coldly.

Harry clenched his fist. Yes he knew. He knew that and still…

"Rowle's punishment was wrong and unjust. It should have never have happened! I tried to stop Riddle and he didn't listen."

"Then _make_ him," Snape insisted. "You are changing him Potter. Drastically. Do you know what happened to our members if someone got irreversible injured or sick, yet didn't die? A public execution, a shaming almost. Lord Voldemort despises the weak. They have no place in this world and certainly not in his group. Yet he let Rowle live for several weeks, waiting if he showed any signs of recovery. And then he disposed of him quietly, I've never seen so much mercy from him."

"He disposed of him quietly because he didn't want me to know. He's censoring my knowledge like that of a little kid!" he objected firmly.

"The point is that he did it _for_ you. He went out of his way to do something that goes against his nature. He didn't want you to know because he recognized that innocence in you and strangely enough doesn't see it as a weakness, but as something that must be preserved."

Snape left him to ponder on that silently, the rage still cursing through him. "He killed Rowle, so you didn't have to," Snape continued quietly and reassumed his task.

Harry's head snapped up. "I don't need to be protected. I don't need anyone to filter out the facts. And if I do have to kill then I bloody will."

Snape let out an irritated huff. "He doesn't protect you because he thinks you're weak. He simply can't help it. It's what happens to people who are in love."

Harry laughed disbelievingly. "He is _not_ in love. I-…I don't think he's capable of love."

"Are you? I agree it's not a textbook romance, but all the signs are nonetheless there."

"They are not!" Harry denied vehemently.

Snape snorted. "Where were you this morning?"

Harry's whole body went rigid. "That doesn't mean anything," he pressed out.

"Maybe, maybe not," Snape muttered vaguely. "But shouting at him now will neither change the situation, nor his mind frame. Pick your battles wisely Potter. Use your energy for the cases where you can still change the outcome."

Harry helplessly raked his hands through his already messy hair. "I got to know him as a cold-hearted bastard, but what you are describing is a monster."

"He was in the past, you already knew that," Snape pointed out. "The question is, will it be his future?"

Harry left without another word, only partially calmer than at the beginning of their conversation.

Snape was right, arguing with Riddle would not bring Rowle back. It was also true that he most likely would have never recovered and everyone knew useless people were left behind. But Harry was still convinced that it shouldn't have happened in the first place.

He wasn't sure if Riddle really disposed of him quietly in a twisted sense of protection, or if the lord had just hoped Harry would forget about Rowle and never bring the subject up again.

Harry punched the nearest wall in frustration while stomping up the stairs.

Whenever he thought he caught a glimpse of something good inside of Riddle, the man had to go and ruin it. Harry hated how his own feelings for Riddle seemed to be nothing more than a scale for the lord's positive and negative actions, doomed to forever fluctuate, never in balance.

There was no way Harry could just accept everything about Riddle. So what did that mean for his heart?

He was so deep in gloomy thoughts that he only noticed the man when two arms grabbed him from the side, one hand on his biceps and the other low on his hips.

"Hello beautiful, remember me? You look stiff, want me to help you relax?"

Harry didn't have to turn his head to recognize the husky voice and the foul breath. When the hand on his hips continued to slide lower, something in Harry's mind just went off.

"Oh you chose the wrong moment to annoy me," he scowled menacingly.

His free arm struck out and punched the uncomfortably close face squarely on the nose. His reaction was so fast, the man was still smiling while the blood already gushed out.

"Why does everyone want to touch me?" Harry shouted heatedly and continued to kick the man in the guts with every word. "I was malnourished all my life. I'm small and scrawny. Do I somehow seem willing to anyone? Go! Fuck! Yourself!"

He gave a final kick to the pathetic bundle of shivering clothes and turned away, even more annoyed than before.

He continued to stomp up the stairs before whirling around a last time to scream at the snivelling man.

"And my ass fucking hurts!"

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There, that isn't a cliffhanger is it? I tried really hard this time! Do I get a pat on the head now? :3


	34. Chapter 34

 

 

 

This was a bad idea.

Harry nervously chewed on his thumb, while his feet dangled off the edge.

He was sitting casually on Riddle's desk, waiting for the lord to return. He had snuck in while the other was held up with other matters and had been waiting there for ten minutes now.

This was a really bad idea.

He could just get out again..? No one would ever know.

Harry sighed. No, he could do this. If the smug bastard could do it so easily, then surely it had to be possible for him. It takes two to tango…whatever the hell that meant.

People always talked about sex like the last mystery that was to be discovered. Like it would automatically give you something. A certain kind of allure they secreted.

 _Well I don't feel shit coming off of me…_ Unless nervousness counted?

It really wasn't such a big deal, he just had to stay calm and not crack up in the middle of it. That would be quite disastrous. Focus on the goal. Simple.

The past few days had been blessedly busy for everyone. Voldemort had revealed the details of the upcoming challenge to his followers, finally confirming officially his intentions to challenge the baron. While Riddle was busy scheming his strategy, Harry had been locked away in his dorms, building as many swords as time and materials allowed.

They only ever saw each other for the meals, and even then their interactions had been sparse. Normally this would have put Harry at ease, but after they did _that_ …

'Awkward' needed a new definition.

It's not like Harry suddenly wanted his attention more, but Riddle's toned down behaviour coupled with his own anger at Rowle's death and the drastic turn his condition seemed to have taken on top of everything else… It was a mess.

Harry would leave tomorrow and he felt like he hadn't even figured out a tenth of what occupied his mind. Some cases like the formula or the Weasleys were out of his control, but Riddle…

Well, he needed to know that only because Harry had lowered his guard once, didn't mean he could just take it for granted. The bastard better not assumed him to be tamed, or worse yet, intimidated.

As this was the last opportunity Harry would get to see him alone, he had abandoned his safe dorms and snuck here instead.

Had he mentioned that this was a very bad idea?

Still, it was both a chance to teach the lord a lesson and to further figure out his own position…feelings…whatever.

Suddenly he heard footsteps approaching the door and Harry almost bit his thumb off from shock.

Oh gods, this will end horrible….

Riddle stalked in, a small frown on his forehead and deep in thoughts. He looked up and froze when he saw Harry sitting on his desk.

Harry jeered silently, surprising him would just never get old.

"Harry…" Riddle greeted suspiciously. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Isn't it?" Harry asked overly cheerful, trying not to fidget too much.

"Quite…unexpected," the lord agreed. "And what are you doing on my desk?"

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "I came to hate deep chairs in the past few days, they made it very hard to stand up again."

Riddle snorted and poured himself a drink. "I didn't think you would actually go and learn how to ride. I was convinced Lucius would come back in tears, telling me how you threatened his life and everything that was dear to him if he dragged you on a horse."

Harry sniffed. "It wasn't that bad."

"Liar," Riddle murmured softly. "You were wincing every time you sat down."

"And whose fault do you think that is?!" Harry scowled darkly.

"Mine, obviously," Riddle replied instantly, that smug smirk of his firmly on his lips. "As it should be."

Harry rolled his eyes exasperated. There he went again; gloating, yet careful not to do more than brush the subject.

Riddle put his drink down and leaned against the armrest of his chair, giving Harry his full attention. "What can I do for you?"

"I've come for revenge," Harry declared.

"…"

"Well I've been thinking," he continued casually. "And after careful consideration and comparison of different descriptions with the actual thing, I've come to the conclusion that you owe me a chance for revenge."

"…Revenge?" Riddle sounded doubtful.

"Yes, so hurryupandkissme," he rushed out.

There he'd done it! He almost managed not to choke on the words. If only he could tell his face to stop trying to combust, that would be even better.

Riddle was understandably sceptical. "Do you intend to poison me?"

Damn, his idea was much better than his own.

"No," he answered honestly.

"Are you sick?" Riddle inquired, unconvinced.

Harry defensively crossed his arms in front of him. "I'll have you know that I stayed alive for the past three days without any interruptions. I count as a normal human being again."

"That's debatable."

"What, you don't want to kiss me?" he asked petulantly.

Riddle stepped closer, placing his hands to each of Harry's sides and leaned in closely.

Harry's breath became slightly uneven. Seven hells, wasn't he supposed to feel at least a bit more confident by now? Screw Snape and his theories, as far as Harry understood it, love was associated with butterflies, not with nerve-wracking tension.

Wasn't the whole point of sex to resolve that tension? Well, that didn't work. At all. A simple twitch from Riddle was probably enough for Harry to jump right out of his skin.

"Why don't _you_ kiss me?" Riddle breathed amused.

Harry had a hard time keeping eye contact. So much nervousness couldn't possibly be healthy.

"It seems more like your job," he quipped.

Riddle continued to stare at him suspiciously. "Will you bite my tongue out?"

Harry's face scrunched up in disgust. "I'm shocked you think me so…violent."

The most important thing was mental preparation. Riddle obviously always remained in control, so if Harry wanted to counter him he needed to stay rooted and not get swept away by the sensations.

Until now Riddle always had the element of surprise, but this time Harry was ready. So when Riddle finally brought their lips together he didn't waste any time before responding.

He could feel the other's surprise when the somewhat hesitant kiss was returned with unusual vigour. Harry released a startled moan when Riddle broke away only to nibble at his lips.

"What are you scheming behind those innocent eyes hmm?"

Harry glowered at him for being called 'innocent' and wrapped his legs around him to yank him closer.

Riddle only chuckled and slid his hands under Harry's loose shirt. "Well, as long as it involves activities like these, I don't think I care much."

He tried to push him on his back, but Harry stubbornly placed his hands on the table and remained in his sitting position. This however didn't prevent Riddle from grinding their groins together and despite his best efforts Harry was momentarily lost in the heat that engulfed him.

He couldn't help but wonder how Riddle managed all this multitasking. Harry had to focus just to keep up with his kisses.

He was, in fact, so focused that he almost forgot he was supposed to deny him.

"Okay this is where we stop," he panted while slipping down from the table.

It took Riddle a few seconds to react, his breath equally laboured and his voice growling. "Why?"

"Because that's what I panned... I think…Err, I have trouble thinking straight right now, but it made sense before."

Riddle's eyes were dark with lust when he gave his shivering form a pointed look. "You don't look like you want to stop."

"Neither do you," Harry remarked triumphantly. "Which is the point. I think."

"Did you just _tease_ me on purpose?" Riddle asked incredulously.

Harry leaned against the wall to steady himself and grinned. "I told you I'd get better at it."

Now he just needed to find a method that wouldn't get himself all flustered as well. At least he knew he could shatter Riddles precious control whenever he wanted. That small fact alone made him feel empowered.

"You're too stubborn for your own good. Now come back and let's put that table to better use."

Harry laughed at his petulant tone. "Hell no! I've finally managed to walk straight again!"

The lord let out a frustrated sigh. "I get the feeling you are displeased with me."

"Nooo," Harry exclaimed in faked disbelief. "Why would I have _any_ reason to be displeased?"

He actually only came here to teach Riddle a lesson, but apparently he wasn't as good at hiding his other grudges as he thought.

Riddle took some more calming breaths and leaned on the table in an attempt to look casual and composed.

Harry had to smirk when he failed. Not today, bastard.

The lord saw his smirk and his frown deepened. But instead of another biting remark, he kept surprisingly silent and took his time to think.

Suddenly his concentrated frown disappeared as realization dawned on him. "Rowle."

"I'm surprised you even know his name, _my lord,_ " Harry bit out crossly.

Shit, he wasn't prepared for this argument. He had wanted to bring up the issue at some point, sure, but not the night before leaving for days.

Riddle let out a long-suffering sigh. "Child, this is not utopia."

"It isn't? Your extraordinary leadership almost made me forget that," he responded drily.

Riddle tsked annoyed and pushed himself off, coming towards him. Harry refused to be intimidated and stubbornly stood his ground. He continued to hold eye contact even as Riddle slid a hand through his hair and tugged at it sharply.

"If you wanted a civilised conversation, _Harry_ , then turning me on was a very bad move." His voice still had a hoarse undertone, indicating that despite his efforts he hadn't managed to calm down yet.

Harry snorted, completely un-intimidated. He saw Riddles eyes widen a bit at his nonchalant attitude. Honestly, did the man expect he could scare him with closeness forever? Well, judging from his racing heart he apparently could, but Harry certainly wasn't going to let him see that.

"A civilised conversation includes two people that actually listen to each other," he snapped back and roughly swatted his hand away. "Turned on or not, I think we both know you don't fit the criteria."

Let him make of that what he wanted. It's not like the bastard ever actually thought about what others said.

With a last glare Harry turned and left the study.

.

* * *

.

Harry spent the next morning packing up his things.

They wouldn't be able to carry a lot, since they only travelled with two horses and most of the load would consist of necessities such as food, tents, bottles and a pan. The food wouldn't last for the whole journey, but scavenging for something to eat had been his daily business before he joined Voldemort, so he wasn't too worried about that.

He would travel in his comfortable clothes, but change into the robes Narcissa had given him for the ball as soon as they arrived. He needed to look like a lord after all.

An unarmed lord, as this was a friendly invitation. Still, Harry couldn't resist to pack a few of his inventions, at least for the journey they might be helpful.

He delivered all his finished swords to Malfoy and made him promise to hide them away from Bellatrix during the journey.

Then he tried to strap his things on an unwilling Betty, which proved to be a nightmare and took almost an hour. That horse would probably run off and leave him behind in the wilderness the first chance she got.

The last thing he did before going to his last group breakfast was writing a letter to Sirius and Remus. He explained some things that happened to him and told them of his impending journey, though he left out the part about who exactly he would be meeting. He had to mention their challenge with the baron, mostly because they would hear the rumours anyways and probably start to worry.

As he still had no clue if Hedwig would find her way to London, he also included a shorter letter to Aberforth and Moody. He suspected Hedwig might just be trained to fly to their specific location, so they would get both letters and he asked them to somehow deliver his letter to London if that was the case.

It was only when he stood just outside the great hall that it slowly dawned on him that he would actually leave everything behind once again. He hadn't even been here for that long, but despite all odds it had started to feel like home again.

Harry sighed and entered the hall, his eyes immediately falling on Riddle.

He honestly hadn't intended to bring up Rowle's death yesterday. Instead of smoothing over their tension, his little stunt had only created more conflict. Now he couldn't even sulk. That would just feel wrong so close to his departure.

With another sigh he approached the head table, for once on his own, without Bella, Lucius or Riddle dragging him to his chair.

The lord had his head tilted, watching his approach curiously. Harry could practically see his brain working as he analysed his behaviour.

"There's a bruise on your forehead."

"Good morning to you too," Harry grumbled, covering the bruise with his fringe. It was the result of his morning encounter with Betty.

"Is everything ready then?" Riddle asked calmly. "Have you slept enough? Do you know the route? Do you want apple or pear juice?"

Harry just stared at him blankly, bewildered at the somewhat forced polite tone.

"I'm just asking," Riddle said and filled his glass with apple juice.

Harry frowned at his served glass. That was…new. He instantly became wary. Lord Voldemort didn't _serve_ people.

"What are you doing?" he inquired suspiciously.

"Would it kill you to say thanks?" Riddle responded innocently and filled Harry's plate with a few slices of bread.

"Maybe, I'm not taking any risks," he deadpanned.

He stared at the bread on his plate as if it somehow offended him. He was rendered completely speechless when a piece of butter followed as well.

It was as if Riddle made an effort to be nice and considerate. He certainly hadn't been pleased yesterday. He wasn't supposed to be _nice._

Then realization hit him.

He let his head bang down onto the table with a frustrated groan.

"Mr Potter!" Lucius cried, probably appalled at his table manners. A few other members that saw the fiasco chuckled.

Harry ignored all of them and brought his head back up to glare at Riddle. "You idiot, what are you five?!"

When Riddle didn't deem to reply he hid his face in his hands and groaned again.

"I can't believe you. You're getting it all wrong again!"

Riddle bristled slightly at his accusatory tone. "You're the one leaving me to just figure things out."

Okay so he might have a point there. Harry hadn't even expected that Rowle would come up and thus hadn't been prepared to discuss the issue. Neither of them had been in any state to argue their points and Harry had ended up leaving before things could escalate.

He never expected that Riddle would stew on the issue, thinking it over on his own. And drawing all the wrong conclusions about Harry's anger.

"You don't need to appease _me_ ," he groaned exasperated. "It's not my forgiveness you need."

"I beg to differ, you are the one that seems angry at me after all."

"Yes but..!" Harry scratched his head in frustration, searching for a way to explain. "I'm mad because you didn't listen to me, handed out a wrong punishment and then disposed of him without even telling me. But the injustice wasn't directed at me. I'm pissed off at your behaviour, but the things you did, you did to Rowle."

"Rowle's dead. What am I supposed to do, weep over his cold grave?"

Harry's insides froze from his cold demeanour. "Try remorse."

"Over a cripple?"

"You crippled him in the first place!" Harry exclaimed hotly.

"Because his failure could have killed you!" Riddle hissed back.

Harry huffed agitated, not really believing him. "Fine. Try mercy then."

"I did," Riddle remarked curtly.

He did huh. That's what Snape had told him as well. Gods, he just didn't know anymore. How could he make Riddle _see_? How did one teach compassion?

"What do you expect me to do?" Riddle sounded perfectly honest. As if a single simple action could erase the consequences of his decisions.

"I don't know damn it! Try being human?!"

"I'm trying."

"You're awful at it," Harry grumbled while he bit harshly into his bread.

It hurt. It hurt in a way he couldn't begin to describe. There was something that drew him to Riddle, something that made it impossible to ignore the other. A need to be by his side. But there was a part of Riddle so cold and monstrous that rendered Harry completely helpless. What did it mean if the man was actually trying? Was there still hope for change?

He chewed on his bread irritated. The only one that could answer his questions was Riddle himself. What was done could not be changed. If he was really trying, then maybe he would change over time. But that wouldn't happen in a day.

Since arguing with Riddle now, barely an hour before they would set out in different directions, wouldn't get him anywhere, Harry idly searched for a way to change the topic.

A familiar face amongst the followers caught his eyes. The man was sitting slightly hunched over and even from where Harry sat he could see the broken nose.

"Who is that?" Harry wondered out loud.

Riddle considered him for a while, before he accepted the evasion wordlessly and followed his eyes.

"Which one?"

"Third on the right, with the, uhm, broken nose?"

He hadn't even been aware that he had hit him that hard. He might have overreacted a bit, but overall Harry didn't feel sorry for defending himself.

"Mulciber. Vicious fighter but zero intelligence. Why?"

Harry shrugged, feigning indifference. "Nothing."

He continued to watch the man. At least now he had a name to go by, not just his body odor. Harry's thoughts wandered back to the first time Mulciber had ambushed him. That 'kiss', if he could even call it that, had been seriously disgusting. Yet the very same action electrified him when it came from Riddle.

"So, does kissing different people really feel that different?"

Riddle's head snapped around. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, the motion itself stays the same, so the sensation really shouldn't be that different either," Harry argued.

Riddle narrowed his eyes at him. "What brought this on child?"

"I'm just wondering…"

"Just wondering," Riddle repeated sceptically, following Harry's gaze back to Mulciber.

Harry could practically feel the shift in Riddle's aura. The hair on his arms and neck rose in alarm.

"He _kissed_ you?"

Harry was taken aback by the venom in Riddle's voice. "W-well, that… I'm not sure if it counts-…"

"He touched you?"

"Bella touches me when we fight," he pointed out uncertainly, trying to understand what the other was getting at.

"Inappropriately?" Riddle specified intently.

Harry blinked at him. "Uhm, meaning..?"

" _Sexually_?"

"What? No! Jeez, I shattered his knee way before that could happen." Riddle's blank stare did nothing to ease his nervousness. "And I kind of broke his nose…" he confessed sheepishly.

The lord stood abruptly, effectively halting every conversation in the hall. Harry instinctively inched back in his chair when Riddle turned to him, his crimson eyes swirling with pure fury.

Harry held up his hands in defence. "I'm sorry okay? He was annoying!"

Without warning, Riddle yanked him up by his collar and brought their lips together for a bruising kiss. It happened so fast and was so unexpected that Harry didn't quite process what was going on until Riddle already released him, though his hands never let go of his collar.

"Wha...?" he made confused and slightly breathless, his feet still trying to find balance.

Then he realized the deadly silence that pressed on his ears. This wasn't some secluded balcony or a private coach. This wasn't Riddle's study or Harry's dorm. This was the great hall, filled with every member of their group, and they were the only ones standing. At the head table. With everyone staring.

"What the fuck Riddle?!" Harry cried and stumbled a step back, his face burning.

Yes there were people like Snape, Bella and maybe Lucius or Rosier, who had picked up on their relationship, but Harry had already a hard time dealing with them. He was only just beginning to figure out his feelings, he was nowhere near confident enough to just go _public_ like that. Most of the other members had already enough reasons to be jealous of him, he really, really didn't want to give them more.

"You are mine," Riddle growled lowly.

"The fuck I am!" he protested, more perplexed than anything.

Riddle ignored him completely and stalked around the head table, towards Mulciber. His steps were slow and measured, his muscles tense and his eyes ablaze.

Harry had seen him fight, seen him play with lords like prey, seen him aroused and had _thought_ he had seen him angry when Harry was particularly cheeky.

He had never seen him so…lethal.

It had been bad when Snape killed Dumbledore, but back then Riddle had lost control, his rational thoughts blocked by his emotional tumult, his fury all over the place.

He was calm now.

If the solar system suddenly decided it needed a new centre and started rotating around Riddle, Harry honestly wouldn't have been surprised. The lord's presence was suffocating.

"Mulciber I've noticed you are wobbling for quite some time now," the lord said sweetly, his soft tone filling out the hall. "And your nose looks broken as well, whatever happened?"

"I-uhh…m-my lord…" Mulciber's eyes darted between Riddle and Harry in panic.

"Would you mind telling me what happened Mulciber?" Riddle smiled sharply and leaned in a bit closer. "In every. little. detail."

Mulciber was still looking from Harry to his lord, obviously trying to grasp what just happened. "My l-lord, I didn't - didn't know! I…w-would n-never..!"

"Willow. Now." Riddle commanded coldly, his pleasant expression falling away like a mask.

Everyone stood up immediately.

Harry slammed his hands on the table, the clattering sound of the plates startling everyone and successfully drawing everybody's attention.

He calmly stared back at the sea of shocked eyes and straightened up, folding his hands determined in front of him.

"No."

One might have heard a feather fall in the complete silence that followed his word. Even Bella tensed up slightly while the whole group glanced between their lord and the one they called lordling.

"What?" Riddle pressed out eventually, the danger only damped because of his own surprise.

The followers literally held their breaths. The only thing that could be heard were Harry's footsteps, as he walked around the head table and came up close to Riddle.

"I said no."

He endured Riddle's full attention unmovingly, while the seconds ticked by.

"Just because I tolerate your insolence, doesn't mean you can outright undermine my authority, child," Riddle warned darkly.

"We've been here before Tom."

"He-…"

"He what?!" Harry interrupted harshly. "If anything he is _my_ problem. Stop managing my life!"

"I am your lord."

Harry closed his eyes to prevent Riddle from reading his emotions. When he opened them again his face was blank and his eyes averted.

"I guess I'll just be your follower then," he said tonelessly.

Riddle turned his back on him and pushed the whimpering Mulciber forward. He took two steps and stopped, hesitant. He took another and stopped again. Finally he whirled around and towered over Harry.

"What?!" he spat.

"I didn't say anything," Harry replied calmly.

"Oh but you _want_ to." Riddle grabbed his chin roughly, forcing him on tiptoe. "Go on then Harry, speak."

"Why should I? I'd have more success talking to a stone," he bit out.

"Does it give you that much pleasure to make me the bad guy?"

_Pleasure? You bastard, it's tearing me apart._

"You're making it very hard to see anything else."

Riddle leaned in closer, his voice becoming softer, so only Harry could hear it. "And yet you desire me. Here and now Harry, I dare you to deny it."

Riddle's breath was hot on his face, but the hands that gripped his chin were cold, like usual. Cold hands for a cold man, who could make his skin burn and his heart race, who could grip his hair and claim a kiss.

"I do not want a monster," he said finally.

And if Riddle still couldn't figure out what he meant by that, then Harry would turn around right there and never look back.

Riddle seemed bewildered at his answer and his head tilted in contemplation. He didn't release his chin completely, but allowed him to stand firmly on the ground again, while he stared into his eyes in search for an elaboration.

Harry wondered what he would find. Whatever it was, Riddle didn't seem to like it. The lord's lips thinned in displeasure and he was clearly wringing with himself.

Finally he released him completely.

"Mulciber," he all but spat, still looking directly at Harry.

The man jerked in surprise. "Y-y-yes, m-my lord?"

"You have ten minutes to get off my territory. I assume you know what happens if I find you after that."

They were in the middle of nowhere and Mulciber didn't strike Harry as someone smart enough to make it on their own. Still, his survival was in his own hands now, he had a chance. It's not like Harry expected Riddle to turn into a forgiving saint all of a sudden.

Mulciber looked ready to cry. "I d-do! Thank y-you! I-…" He turned to Harry in relief, grasping for his arm in an attempt to shake his hand.

Harry quickly took a step back and slapped his hands away. "Get the fuck away from me."

Mulciber didn't need to be told twice and ran out of the hall without ever turning back.

Riddle looked at him incredulously.

"What?" Harry snapped irritated. "Just because I don't want to torture him to death doesn't mean I like him."

His usual snappish tone seemed to dispel some of the heavy atmosphere in the hall. Riddle sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, messing up a few strands of his otherwise always impeccable hair.

"I…do not need another follower," he said finally, almost self-conscious.

Harry's eyebrows rose sceptically. "Are you sure? 'Cause one just ran out and we're kind of low on members anyways… Ouch!"

Riddle's hand was trying to squash his skull.

"Do not mock me, child."

Harry glared at him but remained silent, knowing he shouldn't push him so shortly after his triumph.

"I don't understand your logic," Riddle continued after a while. "I don't have what you have, Harry. I don't see what you see. I always made my own rules and never cared much for right and wrong. I hate people who judge me, yet I find myself trying to live by your morals….But I don't think I'll ever be able to distinguish just from unjust like you do so easily."

"Well that's not a problem," Harry said determined, smiling at the confused look Riddle sent him. "You'll just have to listen to me then. I'll be your moral filter."

Riddle threw his head back and laughed. Harry released a relieved breath, though he noticed everyone else remained as tense as before.

"You don't think I'll corrupt you?" Riddle chuckled.

"Shouldn't you have already succeeded if that were the case?"

"You're proving to be infuriatingly wilful."

"You like it," Harry teased.

"I do," Riddle admitted.

He grinned elated. "See? I'm getting better at it."

"I have something to look forward to then," Riddle mused, before his smile grew a bit sharper again. "Maybe a reward for a job well done?"

Harry snorted and gave him a coy smile. "I'll think about it when you come back in one piece."

" _You_ better come back, child."

Riddle's grasp on his head turned into an almost affectionate pat.

"Of course," he replied unconcerned. "After all, I haven't even explored the library yet."

Riddle swatted at him, but Harry dodged it easily.

"Bella, bring me back a souvenir!" he laughed and turned to leave.

"Will do lordling," she cackled, as always the first one to recover from her lord's mood.

Well, it wasn't the tear-jerking farewell he had experienced with his friends in London, but then again he wasn't parting with friends. He was parting with a bunch of lunatics and Harry had no doubts they would return victorious, no matter how crazy the challenge. And Riddle… He would probably find it insulting if Harry worried about him.

He left the great hall and Hogwarts without another look back, thus missing Rosier's paling face when Voldemort held him back.

"If an arrow flies towards him you will jump in his bloody path, am I making myself clear?"

Evan gulped visibly. "Yes my lord."

"Don't even think about running away if something happens to him Rosier, because I _will_ find you," Voldemort promised darkly.

"Yes my lord."

Voldemort stepped aside and Evan hastily ran after Harry.

"Good luck!" Bellatrix chirped after him.

Evan Rosier wasn't a religious man, but in that moment he prayed for a danger-free, safe journey to whatever god may listen.

He arrived just in time to see Harry almost getting trampled to death by his horse.

Evan sighed. Apparently he needed all the help he could get.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your plans for Harry's molester were definitely more bloodthirsty haha ^_^. But really, we're having all that fuss about Rowle's punishment, I don't think Harry would have stood for another incident. So I'm afraid he got away lightly, but at least he helped move their relationship a step forward right?
> 
> The story will split from here on - aaahh the agony! I'll try to keep their separation to a bare minimum, I fear my motivation won't last otherwise. Some good stuff is coming though! :)


	35. Chapter 35

 

 

 

"~There is a house in New Orleans~"

"Would you shut up?!"

"~They caaaaall the riiiiising suuuuun~"

Harry groaned and slapped his hands over his ears. " _Please_?" he pressed out.

Rosier gave him a nasty look, then turned nonchalantly away and changed his tune.

"~I'm on the hiiiiiighway to hell~"

"Continue like that and I will send you to hell," Harry grumbled.

He was hungry, sore, sleep deprived, bored and his travelling companion proved to be the most annoying person he had ever met. Well…after Riddle that is.

He sighed loudly, wondering why he seemed to attract annoying idiots like a magnet.

Rosier paused and grinned at him knowingly. "~Oh l'amour, l'amour!~"

Harry shot him his most venomous glare and Rosier burst out laughing, unable to continue.

"Come on, cheer up lordling! It's a sunny day-…"

"For a change," Harry remarked drily, thinking of all the remarkably not-sunny days they've had.

"…nothing but grassy fields around, gentle wind and the sound of birds! There's just us-…"

" _Don't_ remind me," Harry muttered.

"…and mother nature. No bad guys in sight and no worries in our heads!"

"I doubt there is _any_ thing in your head."

Rosier flashed him another nasty smile and opened his mouth.

Harry's eyes widened in horror. "No! Rosier!"

"~Auuuux Champs-Élyséeeees~"

Harry flopped forward in his saddle, burying his head in frustration. Betty chose that moment to stop and nibble at some grass. Harry didn't even try to get her moving again. The past few days had taught him that even his best efforts didn't affect her at all.

They had been travelling for a week now. They were heading east. That's it. Grindelwald had only included a few directions from the point on where they would encounter a large river with a broken stone bridge. _That's it._

According to Riddle that river lay about two weeks directly east from Hogwarts and they couldn't miss it if they kept their direction.

So they rode through thick forests and crossed mushy swamps instead of finding a route around their obstacles, in fear of losing their direction.

The plains around them now had been stretching out for three days already and seemed to continue endlessly. The only ones who could find food here were the horses.

Harry was sick and tired of the sight. He was sick and tired of everything and everyone around him. So _dull._

Gods he missed Riddle.

"WHAAAAT?!" He snapped up in his saddle, his whole being tense and frozen from the treacherous thoughts of his brain.

Rosier jerked in surprise. "Seven hells lordling, are you going insane now?"

"Yes, must be it," he groused, only barely resisting the urge to hit himself.

"You know," Rosier began, sounding a bit more serious for a change. "I'm not complaining or anything… but where the fuck are we going?"

Harry looked at him uncomprehendingly.

Rosier shrugged. "Well you can't blame me for asking. Our whole group is heading west to make some crazy challenge, but we are going in the opposite direction. I don't mind tagging along, but just what kind of side quest did he give you lordling?"

Harry was dumbstruck. "You don't know?"

Rosier looked at him as if he were stupid. "Of course I don't. Who would have told me? You didn't."

"I-… Sorry, I assumed you knew when we departed."

He had known that in the beginning when their 'lessons' had started that Rosier was still in the dark. But that the man would happily embark on a solo journey without asking any questions for days astounded him.

He cleared his throat, embarrassed. "Well, ah…Basically we're meeting with another lord…and, err…"

"Aha, I see," Rosier deadpanned, clearly amused.

"It's quite a mess to be honest," Harry said sheepishly. "I can't believe you would just come along without knowing anything."

Rosier chuckled nonchalantly. "Our lord would never send _you_ on a suicide mission. I'd bet I'm safer than the rest of them, no matter what it is."

At the mention of Voldemort's _tender_ feelings for him, Harry's lips thinned in annoyance.

"Which reminds me, I've got a present for you!" Rosier exclaimed happily, as always blatantly ignoring Harry's sour mood.

"Huh?"

"Bella gave it to me a day before we departed. She said I should give it to you when you're in a particularly bad mood."

Harry blinked at him perplexed while Rosier rummaged around in his packs and then tossed him something.

Harry opened the book reflexively.

" _Spread your legs wider for me Harry."_

_Harry panted, his hot breath condensing on the window in front of him._

" _People are going to see."_

" _No one will look up."_

_Quivering, Harry let the hand between his thighs spread him further._

" _Harry look," Voldemort whispered in his ear. "The glass is like a mirror. You have the most adorable blush when I do this…_

Harry hurled the book back at Rosier, his face burning from anger and embarrassment. That evil little-… How did she even have the time to cross out all their names?!

"Aww, you like it!"

"Get that thing away from me," Harry hissed.

Rosier just laughed and waved the book in front of him. "You know, if you didn't want it you could have just tossed it to the ground."

"We can use it for the fire. We could have used it for the fire days ago," Harry snapped at him. They could hardly find any decent wood in these dull fields.

"Oh no, we can't burn it yet!" Rosier protested and cradled the book close to his chest.

Harry rolled his eyes annoyed. "And why is that?"

Rosier smirked and opened the book. "Because I haven't finished yet, obviously."

Harry threw the frying pan at him.

 

* * *

 

"My lord…" a cautious voice implored, "We can't keep this up much longer. The men are tired."

Tom turned around, not even trying to hide his displeasure while he glared at Lucius. The blond man gulped visibly.

"Are they now?" he murmured flatly and almost rolled his eyes, before catching himself. That had been dangerously close to the sarcasm a certain green-eyed boy used so often to lash out.

"The chance of injury is rising by the second, my lord. And so close to a challenge-…"

"Yes, _thank you_ , Lucius, for reminding me." Oh my, that had definitely been too close.

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. It had been two days since they were forced to stop the train.

The tracks running west lead straight through a particularly thick forest, making it almost impossible for the train to pass. At one point Tom had ordered the group to stop for good and clear the tracks ahead of them, instead of stopping every ten minutes for another obstacle.

The vegetation proved to be annoyingly resilient and they had barely made any progress at all. They were running out of time. Every day wasted in this green thickness was a day more the Baron could use to prepare.

The worst thing was that they had the solution to their problem right under their nose. Harry's swords would have cut through any obstacles like butter. But Tom didn't dare risk to use up the energy stored in them. Even losing one of them could prove detrimental to their success.

So they were forced to hack away at the vegetation, using sweat and muscles instead of Harry's magic.

"They haven't slept for over 40 hours my lord," Lucius tried again, sounding rather exhausted himself.

Tom made an irritated sound.

 _Tired._ Of course they were tired. He was tired himself, and physically he wasn't even the strongest amongst them. How dare they just capitulated to their own laziness like that. Weak fools. Tom wondered if they would get anything done at all in their life if it weren't for his commands. Simpletons the whole lot of them. He could almost feel his mind turning into mud in their company.

Tom longed to finally arrive and fight with the Baron, before quickly making his way back to Hogwarts, where he would find more…stimulating…company.

His tired mind made it all too easy for Harry to invade his thoughts.

Tom could practically see him standing there, amongst the others. He would have dark bags under his eyes by now, completely dead on his feet. But he would hold himself straight, with his head held up and his eyes sharp, refusing to show any weakness. Glaring at him for working his followers so hard.

Tom's lips curled with the beginning of a smile. The child glared so prettily.

Just like when he had stood between him and Mulciber. So steady and calm, glaring silently at him. Like a rock, unfazed by the crashing waves, while no one else even dared to breathe.

Tom vowed to make him kneel one day, if only to prove to himself that he could.

He closed his eyes for a second and the image vanished along with his smile.

"Snape!" he barked, enjoying the sight of Lucius jerking in surprise.

There were a few seconds of silence before shuffling footsteps indicated the pale man's arrival.

"My lord?"

"Your opinion of our current situation, Severus?"

Snape warily glanced at the blond man next to him, obviously wondering why he had been called additionally.

"As Lucius was saying, my lord, the men-…"

"Yes, yes, I heard," Tom made impatiently. "My _moral compass_ is currently unavailable and as the workings of his mind remain as enigmatic as ever, I find myself in need of a substitute."

After all, the child had claimed that Snape was the only one who still managed to speak his mind in his presence. Tom suspected that was because the man might be the only one that was actually prepared to face the consequences, namely death, but either way it was vastly irritating. The only thing that would save the traitor was Harry's fondness for him.

"Well?" he demanded irritated.

Lucius looked truly perplexed, while Severus' face remained blank at his words.

"In that case my lord," he began cautiously. "I believe _he_ would argue that letting the men rest now would eventually speed up the process, since they could start working again in the morning with new energy."

Tom cocked his head in amusement. "Really now? I was convinced he'd _demand_ to get some sleep, curse me to the deepest pits of hell and call me a bastard at least three times in a sentence… But I can see you chose the more diplomatic option."

He received nothing but blank stares, both men obviously having no idea how to react. How _dull._

What he'd give to see that defiant smirk right now…

He sighed exasperated. "Fine, we rest until morning. But I want those tracks clear tomorrow and I don't care if you have to-…"

"My lord!"

Tom's brows furrowed in annoyance at being interrupted. He started to suspect the child's soothing presence wasn't good for him after all. His group seemed to turn to anarchy.

Nott came running towards them, his breathless state evidence of his hurry.

"My lord, I believe something is coming."

Tom automatically looked ahead, but saw nothing except the usual thick vegetation.

"The railway my lord, it's coming on the tracks."

Curious now, Tom gracefully kneeled down to press an ear on the metal. Nott was right. One could hear the soft thudding sound of a train, faintly being transmitted by the tracks miles ahead.

"Well now…" he murmured as he stood up again. "No rest after all. It appears we're getting visitors."

He looked ahead, at the single railway track that led to them and their train. There was no evading the encounter.

"Let's hope their breaks are intact."

 

* * *

 

Ron let his spoon fall back into the stew with an apathetic expression.

He wasn't a picky eater at all. He honestly had only ever heard about times where food was so plentiful that people could choose what they wanted to eat.

But the stuff the shabby inn served was absolutely disgusting, even for today's low standard.

He opted for the glass of water instead, wincing as even the small weight of the glass was almost too much for his outstretched arm.

He had managed to beat the dogs at the end, but their teeth had left their marks everywhere. He had all but crawled away from his human pursuers. If they had searched the bushes more carefully he'd be dead by now.

But they had probably been tired and without the dogs to sniff out his scent, searching in the darkness must have held little appeal to them.

They had also seen Hermione, lying not far from the dead dogs.

Ron's hand clenched around his glass painfully as he fought back burning tears.

They had been after her first and foremost. When they had the confirmation that she was dead, they must have assumed that the information she carried died with her.

And it had. Almost. But not quite.

Ron had to hold on to that thought. Not quite you pigs, not quite. She was smarter than the whole pack of the bastards and she would have chosen to use her last breath wisely.

She had given him a name.

Despite his disgust he picked up the spoon again with newfound determination. He would need the energy.

Ron had never been like Hermione. All he ever wanted was to escape the Baron's oppressive clutches and lead a quiet life somewhere on their own.

But she had always been a fighter for the causes she believed in. There was a part of Ron that had hated that side of her. Had hated her when she willingly dived deeper into danger instead of just letting it go. Had hated her for taking that simple happy life away from him.

And the other part of him admired her like nothing else. If she was prepared to die for it, then Ron would do everything, everything, to see it through.

She had chosen her last words, intent to steer him in the right direction, trusting him.

He would never betray that trust. And so he would dedicate his life to find out what she had known, even if he didn't have the faintest idea what the hell he would find.

For now, he needed to find Harry Potter. But where?

He was currently at an inn, still in the Baron's territory. After his narrow escape from the headquarters, he had been in no shape to take his chances with crossing the boundary as well. He planned to do it today during the night, despite his half healed injuries.

"Did you hear the rumours?"

A voice from a neighbouring table caught Ron's attention. It was hushed and urgent, the kind of tone you could easily pick up despite the much louder conversations going on in the room.

"Stop listening to gossip," another man snorted dismissively.

"But this one is big," the other insisted. "I heard someone wants to challenge the Baron!"

"Hah!" his friend laughed derisively. "They all _want_ to challenge him, but no one actually _dares_."

"No I heard that one as well," someone else chimed in, "They're talking about it all over the place."

"Have you heard the strangest part?" the first man asked, leaning in enthusiastically.

"What? Are they coming on broomsticks?" his sceptical friend grumbled.

"They say the group has barely sixty men!"

"Are they insane?"

"Maybe they have a plan?"

"I heard they have a superweapon!"

"Their lord is immortal, it's a fact!"

Suddenly the whole inn was abuzz with excited rumours, everyone trying to convince their neighbours of what ridiculous things they have heard.

And once everyone was partaking in the conversation, the need to whisper, to hide from the Baron's men was forgotten. Usually when a drunk started voicing his thoughts on the Baron, his friends were quick to shush him. But right now the dam was broken and the carefully avoided topic spilled forward.

"Do you think they could win?"

"Don't be silly, no one came even close so far."

"But what if-…"

"We'd be free!"

"Bah, any lord that could win against the Baron would be just as bad."

"Maybe…maybe if we'd band together…you know…help them."

"Like a revolution?"

"With a weak group like that? No chance."

"But maybe they are the last ones to ever challenge him!"

"Should have helped the previous ones."

Ron took another mouthful of his stew, keeping his face impassive while listening interested to the conversations around him. Something about these rumours felt off.

There hadn't been any challenges since the attack of the large alliance a few months back. If anyone had a chance, it would have been them. And if the Baron's 'subjects' had helped them…yes, maybe.

Ron didn't know if the Baron was actually the strongest lord out there or if no one really cared for his territory. Maybe all the lords were just sitting in their headquarters, using their followers to oppress the surrounding settlements. At least that was what the Baron was doing and it seemed to work for him.

Everyone living on his territory was technically in his group, but only the ones with access to the headquarters was actually an active follower. The rest of them were just his subjects and treated as such.

Most wanted to get out of here, few succeeded.

Ron had found a weak spot in the tightly controlled border and had planned to escape with Hermione. Instead she had broken into the headquarters. _How_ Ron would never know.

The Baron's headquarters was a fortress and so far every challenger had failed to capture it. Once the gates were shut there was no going in. Or out.

He had spent weeks posing as one of the Baron's faithful followers. Days of mapping out the dungeons. Until he'd finally found her again. Until it was too late.

The thought of revenge hadn't even crossed his mind. He would never succeed. The fact that he had managed to escape the headquarters with Hermione already bordered on a miracle.

"So do we know when they will challenge him?" Ron asked, leaning over to the neighbouring table that had started the frenzy.

They glanced at him and Ron could see the instant judgment in their eyes. Too young to talk about such things. He gritted his teeth to stop himself from saying something stupid.

They answered him anyway. "I heard not more than a week from now."

"And how does the Baron have all that information if they haven't even challenged him yet?"

"Dunno…Spies?" the man shrugged. "He knows everything kid."

Ron didn't believe in that silly superstition. The Baron was human. He just happened to enjoy being a monster. He couldn't just know everything.

Nothing about this challenge made sense. The group was too small to have any hope at succeeding. The Baron shouldn't know how many men or when they'd come. And the information certainly shouldn't be circulating among the people.

Logic told him not to get his hopes up. He should just grab his things and get the fuck out of there.

Then why…why did he feel so sure that something was wrong? Why did he suddenly think of revenge when he should know it was futile?

Not more than a week from now…

He could wait here a little longer. He spent weeks at the Baron's headquarters searching for Hermione, he knew every corner of that territory. And maybe…just maybe, if he saw that group had a chance, he would give it to them.

The Baron…Ron wanted him dead, destroyed, tortured. As long as it was a painful end. The baron was too well guarded for him alone. In all his life, he had caught a glimpse of him just once. And it had been during an attack from another group.

That was the only time he ever stepped out in the open. That was the only time Ron could kill him.

He silently apologized to Hermione. He'd find Harry Potter, even if it would cost him his life, but the man would have to wait a bit longer.

That shouldn't be a problem for the man. After all, he should have been dead long ago.

 

* * *

 

"What now, oh sage genius?"

Harry peered apprehensively over the edge. It was late, but instead of finding a shelter for the night, they seemed to have encountered a bottomless cliff. The mist that had greeted them dutifully every morning for the past few days had reappeared a couple of hours earlier. It was currently filling up the space below them right up to the edge, obscuring the bottom completely.

If there was a bottom at all that is. For all Harry knew they stood at the entrance to hell. Odd clanking and swishing sounds came from somewhere below and Harry had the unpleasant feeling that it wasn't the wind.

"There's a profound difference between sage and genius you know," he murmured distractedly, still trying to make out anything at all through the fog.

"You must be fun at parties."

"I wouldn't know," he deadpanned.

Rosier sighed and looked around. "Well we could sleep here."

A rather strong gush of wind swept over them, making them shiver. Harry gave Rosier a pointed look.

The man shrugged. "It's hardly the first time we didn't find any shelter."

"How far do you think it goes?" Harry wondered.

They had tried to cast a stone down and wait for the thud of his arrival at the bottom, but the eerie sounds had made it impossible to even hear it.

Rosier shrugged again. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"It's probably better."

"Ouch, you wound me lordling. I swear that tongue of yours could cut through solid iron."

"We could push Betty down," Harry suggested half-heartedly. "We'd definitely hear that, right?"

Rosier grinned at him. "Oh sure go ahead. We can share my horse for the rest of the journey. I'm sure we'll get reeeally close."

Harry rolled his eyes and searched one of his bags for a rope.

"You seriously wanna go down there?" Rosier asked sceptically, now glancing down himself.

"Searching for another way down might take us days. I'll go down and look if I can see some kind of path that would lead up. Sometimes they're easier to see from below. Especially in that mist."

Rosier looked at the abyss unconvinced. "And if there isn't one?"

Harry grimaced. Getting the horses down would be a major pain in the ass.

While they were tying the rope around a sturdy tree, a high-pitched noise emerged from below that sounded disturbingly similar to a scream.

"Maybe I should go down first," Rosier suggested warily.

Harry's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Since when are _you_ trying to play the hero?"

"I'm not, honestly. I'm doing this for my own good."

Harry shook his head. "I'm much lighter than you, that's one thing less we have to worry about."

"If you say so…" Rosier clearly wasn't happy about it.

Harry tied one end of the rope around his waist and gave Rosier the end that was wrapped around the tree. "Don't let go."

"Don't die lordling."

"I don't plan to," he replied, while he silently thought about all his plans that decidedly didn't work out in his favour.

He stepped to the edge and stemmed his feet against the rock while he leaned back. He nodded to Rosier to start giving him rope.

Slowly and carefully he made his way down the abyss. The mist soon swallowed him and all he could see was the wall in front of him, while he kept looking down in search for the bottom.

The faint noises they had heard from above grew louder. Most definitely not the wind then.

He was extra careful not to loosen any rocks. He didn't want them to tumble down and alert whatever was down there to his presence.

He was still trying to make out something in the mist when an ear-splitting cry right next to his ear startled him into stillness.

"Spies! They come from above!"

What the-…

A sword came out of nowhere and missed his head only barely, cutting the rope.

His heart skipped a beat, but he only fell about a meter before he encountered the ground with a graceless thud.

Feet scurried around him and more men started to shout. When he lifted his head he faced at least a dozen swords and arrows, pointed directly at him. Dozens of eyes peered down at him.

"Hi," Harry greeted weakly.

One man stepped forward and hauled him up, slamming him against the wall and pressing a knife to his throat.

"Get Greyback."

.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And again I have to apologize for my slow update speed. The reason is that I'm currently DROWNING IN KNOWLEDGE - ahem, some people call it studying, but really it feels more like drowning to me.  
> (Yes we seem to have exams much later than the rest of the world. Laugh at me why don't you.)
> 
> XL-chapter as an apology..?
> 
> Anyways, I can't thank you enough for all your reviews :3! Enjoy :)

 

 

There were two types of predators. One was elegant and agile, fewer muscles in comparison, but with a tension that could burst into a fearsome force at any moment.

Riddle definitely belonged into that category. A deadly grace in each of his steps and a chilling intelligence in his eyes.

Greyback turned out to be a beast.

He was the type to crush skulls with his little finger. The type that didn't need to scheme and lie in wait for his moment to attack. The type that never needed to develop any kind of cleverness simply because his brutality alone was an overwhelming force.

The man was _huge_. Harry knew he had skipped a few meals in his childhood - or more like several years' worth of meals - and truly regular meals were a novelty he had experienced at Hogwarts for the first time, but he knew no amount of nutrition would have ever brought him close to Greyback's massive stature.

Actually he was seriously wondering how human bones could hold all that mass up. The fact that the man was dressed completely in wolf fur - head and all - didn't exactly smother Harry's suspicion regarding his humanity.

Greyback peered down at him, his grey eyes squinting as if having trouble seeing him down there.

"You woke me up for that pipsqueak?" his voice was deep and harsh.

Any irritation Harry might have felt at the insult was overruled by the grudging admittance that the man was speaking nothing but the truth. Then again, next to that titan everyone would look like a dwarf.

"Let go of him Scabior," he huffed annoyed. "What do you expect that midget to do? An ant could cause more problems."

"Yeah don't worry, my piss doesn't sting." It slipped out before Harry could stop it.

One of Greyback's massive hands landed heavily on Harry's head. The force of the fingers alone was crushing.

"Think you're funny, boy?"

"Outch, ow no- no really. My mouth, it's ah-...Ow, faster than my brain. Painfully faster," Harry pressed out quickly.

"What the hell is a mouse like you doing out here alone?"

"Uh, just passing through honestly… And I've got an evil horse with me."

And a singing idiot who was probably throwing a fit right now because the rope had been cut.

"He was being let down on a rope, he's definitely a spy for that sorceress!" Scabior interjected.

Greyback looked back at him sceptically. "Are you a spy, pipsqueak?"

"Uhm, no."

Greyback turned back around to the man called Scabior and pointed at Harry. "He says he's not a spy."

Seriously?

"Well he's lying!" Scabior insisted.

"Doesn't matter. He's not getting out of here alive anyways."

"Err, I've got one or two objections to that…" Harry interrupted weakly.

"We'll sell him like the rest of them. He's young enough," the lord eyed him up and down with assessing eyes. "And pretty enough."

"You can't _sell_ me," Harry protested indignantly. Why did everyone always want to abduct him?!

"Why not?"

The question was asked with such honest curiosity that Harry came up short. There were a hundred plausible answers to that, all of which were based on morale and thus would fall on deaf ears.

At last he snarled up at the lord. "I won't let you."

Greyback blinked, then threw his head back and laughed, clearly only finding amusement at his threat.

But Harry was used to getting underestimated. In fact, he encouraged it most of the time. When his pride could handle it. People weren't on guard when they felt at ease.

So while they were all having a nasty laugh, no one even noticed Harry slipping a hand in his pocket. If they had felt threatened, they wouldn't even have allowed him to move a finger.

Flicking the switch of one of his oldest and most effective device was easy after that.

Greyback only stopped laughing when everyone else around him had dropped into the dirt like lifeless dolls. He was frowning at the unconscious forms of his followers in disbelief.

Harry in turned was openly gaping at Greyback in shock. The man was _still standing_. Apparently not even slightly affected by the shock wave that should have knocked him out cold instantly. He wasn't fucking supposed to be standing.

Frozen in terror and a sort of professional curiosity for the man's immunity, Harry didn't resist at all when Greyback tore the device from his hands.

"I'll be taking that," the man growled sharply.

Well, Harry thought sullenly as Greyback grabbed the hem of his shirt, he was down to one enemy but clearly no better off than before.

Greyback dragged him towards what looked like a cage on wheels. Harry was still trying to come up with anything he could still try that would not end with him in imprisonment, when something splintered loudly over him.

His head snapped around just in time to see Rosier standing behind Greyback, the broken neck of a bottle still in his hands.

Greyback didn't do much more than stagger, before he backhanded Rosier with surprising speed. The brutal slap from the strong arm sent Rosier sprawling to the ground.

"Bloody hell," he groaned. "What's your head made of sir? Iron?"

Greyback's free hand hauled Rosier up and he let them both dangle in the air at arm's length in front of him.

He looked at Rosier unimpressed, then squinted at Harry. "I'm assuming that's your _horse_?"

Rosier grinned, his swollen lip starting to bleed more heavily at the action. "That would imply he's riding me, which sadly only ever happens in my dreams."

Harry took an angry breath to retort, but Greyback shoved them both unceremoniously into the cage and slammed the door shut.

"I don't have fucking time for you idiots. Stay quiet if you don't want to get hurt. And you," he pointed at Harry. "Better prepare yourself. My men will want a piece of you once they come around, pretty face, and I see no reason why I should deny them."

He turned his massive back on them and stalked back to his unconscious followers.

"Prepare myself? What does he mean _prepare_ myself?" Harry asked Rosier angrily.

"Uh well…" Rosier wiped some of his blood from his face and looked at Harry sheepishly. "Well, that means we gotta get out of here before they wake up."

"Oh really," Harry snapped.

"What did you do to them anyways?" Rosier asked awed.

"Greyback should have collapsed as well," Harry grumbled. "How dare he insults my invention!"

"Oh well, I'm sorry I wasn't around to defend the honour of your invention. I was a bit preoccupied with freaking out."

Harry sighed. "Why didn't you stay up? You _do_ want to play the hero after all."

"Not much of hero if you fail, eh?" Rosier touched his bloodied nose gingerly and groaned again.

"Why didn't you use your bow? I thought you were good with it!"

"I am," Rosier huffed indignantly, "but I forgot it by the horses. I made sure to aim correctly though, that bottle should have done the trick if I weren't up against a monster. Such a waste too, it looked like wine."

Rosier was leaning heavily against the iron bars, probably exhausted from his own rushed climb down the cliff. Harry was already up and examining the lock that kept the door of the cage in place.

"I'm surprised they let us live actually," Rosier broke the silence after a while. "If they were nice people they would have just let us go. If they aren't, killing us seems much more logical. What's the cage for?"

Harry shrugged, although he doubted Rosier could see it in the darkness. "He told me they would _sell_ me."

"Huh. Slave traders? Didn't know that sort was back in business."

"They also thought I was a spy for 'the sorceress'. I think they are in some kind of fight with her," Harry told him absentmindedly while he rummaged around in his pockets for anything he could use on the lock.

"Who's the sorceress?"

"No idea."

"Not one of your friends then?"

Harry temporarily stopped what he was doing in favour of giving Rosier an incredulous look. "We're gods knows where Rosier, how would I have any friends here?"

Rosier shrugged weakly. "Dunno. Sorcery is like your kind of thing."

Harry rolled his eyes exasperated, a gesture that was of course also swallowed by the darkness. "It's science, not sorcery! How many times-…"

"She's a lady that attacked them a few times already," a small voice came out of the darkness.

Harry and Rosier were both instantly on guard, squinting into the blackness to the other side of the cage. Harry thought he could make out several small shapes hunched over in the far corner.

One of the shapes seemed to be standing in front of the others protectively. "Please don't hurt us."

"Gods damn," Rosier exclaimed breathless, in the same moment Harry finally could see well enough to make out faces.

A bunch of shivering children were with them in the cage. Children, plural. In a _cage._ Somehow Harry took personal offense in that.

"We're not here to hurt anybody. What's your name honey?" Rosier asked the one standing, probably the oldest one and from the looks of it a girl.

"I'm Lily."

Rosier whipped his head around at Harry's sharp intake of breath. "You okay?"

"Uhm, sure, y-yeah. Err, we have to get out of here…I don't think I can do anything about the lock though," he answered distractedly.

Rosier's eyes focused on something behind Harry and his face grew wary. "Find something else then lordling, your admirers are waking up."

Harry cursed and frantically searched his brain for other ways out.

Screaming and howls stopped him. The men who had been unconscious were already scurrying around and others who had probably been asleep joined them.

The loudest commotion however didn't come from Greyback's group, but from another set of men and women that were storming towards them. The unmistakable patter of horse hooves indicated that some of them were riders.

The children started to whisper excitedly among themselves. It was obvious whose side they were on.

Rosier came up beside him and stared through the bars. "What's that? An ambush? A challenge?"

Just then a pure white horse caught Harry's attention and he smiled when he recognized the long blond hair waving gently around the familiar face of the rider.

"A friend."

.

* * *

.

The approaching train turned out to be much shorter than theirs. Engine only. Enough space for a handful of men to travel fast across the country, but not meant for lasting journeys. It was clearly used as transport only and not as housing.

They had to stop on the other side of what remained of the thick vegetation barricade. The small group climbed out of their train and approached them steadily but unhurried.

As they were clearly outnumbered, Tom guessed they'd rather avoid any confrontation.

He shortly entertained the notion of killing them anyways and be done with it, but something about the handful of men struck him as odd and left him pondering for a while. Then he realized that they had shown no sign of surprise whatsoever at meeting another train. Their pace through the thick vegetation was also entirely too purposeful to be just determined. They had expected to meet them.

This didn't really alarm Tom, but he still couldn't figure out how anyone outside of their group could have possibly known where to find them. It would have made sense if the guild had laid another trap for them, but the small group of people posed too little threat to be part of such a plan.

Still, he didn't let down his guard just yet. And with an icy look he reminded his own men not to let down theirs, despite their fatigue. Despite his suspicion, his sword stayed sheathed while he waited for their unexpected guests to arrive.

It was a women who finally approached him. She appeared to be in her fifties, maybe even sixties, but her age only served to accentuate the seriousness edged into her solemn beauty.

Tom was certain he had never met her before, but she appraised him with a quick look and recognition dawned on her features.

"Lord Voldemort? I'll come straight to the point. I'm looking for Harry Potter."

"Isn't everyone?" Tom asked amused.

She met his gaze calmly. "Lord Gryffindor sent me. I understand they are friends."

'Friends' seemed a bit far-fetched for Tom, but he had certainly seen Gryffindor taking a liking to the boy.

He had no arrangements with Gryffindor's group, but he thought it best to try being civil for starters. It usually made things a lot easier when he charmed people.

"I hate to disappoint milady, but Harry isn't here. Now, I'm afraid I must ask you to remove your train, it is blocking the only path to our destination."

"He isn't here? Godric was convinced he was crucial for your plans."

This actually caused Tom to frown, though he made sure to keep his displeasure out of his voice. "You can tell lord Gryffindor I would prefer it if he didn't speak of my plans so lightly."

She smiled at that. "You have nothing to worry about Lord Voldemort, he only confided in me because we are life-long friends. But where are my manners? Rowena Ravenclaw at your service."

He answered her greetings with a slight nod. "And what did you want with Harry milady?"

"Meeting him for one," she answered amused. "Godric couldn't stop gushing about how alike our interests are. In a world that relies solely on physical power, it is hard to find a schooled mind."

"You didn't come out here just to have intellectual debates with a stranger," Tom pointed out.

"Alas no. I came here to warn you. Godric told me you plan to challenge the Bloody Baron despite your suspicions of a trap. My territory is relatively close to the Barons. I'm here to tell you that your suspicions were correct. We intercepted several messages between lord Scrimgeour and the Baron, even though Scrimgeour made it seem as if they were enemies."

"I knew that already."

She sighed. "You seem like a prudent man, why are you rushing to your death?"

"Your warnings are well meant, but I assure you the only thing I seek is victory."

She thought that over for a while before she responded. "Unlike others I don't believe the Baron is invincible. But a normal challenge with such a small group as yours won't get you anywhere. If you truly want to defeat him you need to be cautious. You need at least one inside man that can navigate through the Baron's fortress. It is impregnable and full of traps. You need a _plan_."

Not for the first time Tom wished Harry could have come with them. He would have spotted all kinds of traps immediately and laughed at them. The child would love nothing more than a fortress full of traps.

Tom knew he didn't have enough inside information. The time pressure exerted by the guild had not allowed it. Yet he could not back down from this challenge. The element of surprise would need to be enough.

"We both know Scrimgeour doesn't want me to defeat the Baron, but why are you so eager to help me?"

"I know we might never gain our old society back, but I still wish for a civil one. The Bloody Baron is a savage. Slavery, blatant cruelty to his subjects... Most of the time his men don't patrol the border to keep invaders out, but to keep their subjects in. I simply won't stand for it. I also think we've allowed Scrimgeour and his friends to play their little game with us for way too long. You are a free lord, which is becoming a rarity sadly. I share Godric's sentiment - it would be a shame to lose you to such an obvious plot."

A free lord? Tom could only assume she was talking about the guild's influence. Which would mean she was either part of the resistance or simply shared their goal unknowingly. Since Gryffindor would have told Harry about the resistance, he doubted they were part of it or even knew about its existence. Interesting. Maybe Tom would steer them in their direction. But he couldn't speak about such delicate matters under open skies with gods knew who listening in the bushes.

"Now I'm wondering though, what are your reasons to take such daring actions lord Voldemort?" she asked curiously.

"It's personal."

"I see I can't convince you. How odd, I'm usually much better at arguments than that."

He smirked. "The fault is not yours milady, I merely had a lot of practice. The boy you mentioned has a way with words and a stubborn mind of his own."

"Well if I can't stop you then at least accept my help. I'm not sure if I can gather my group fast enough to actually assist you in your fight, but for now…" she trailed off, turning towards the thick vegetation that still blocked the railways. "Let me make sure your path won't be blocked anywhere."

If her men would fight then they would likely get slaughtered by the Baron's swords. But that was hardly Tom's concern. More men were always better, especially if they were so expandable.

"Much obliged lady Ravenclaw," he even made a slight bow. "And if your men have any knives or axes to help us with that green barricade that would be much appreciated indeed."

"Oh we have something much better." She was actually grinning. It gave her a somewhat mischievous look that he was used to see on Harry's face whenever he talked about his inventions. He admitted that he might have underestimated her. She might have been a cautious women, but there was something playful in her eyes.

She flicked her wrist and one of the men sprinted back to their train where he disappeared shortly and then carried something back.

When the man got closer Tom could see he was carrying a canister. The shape of it jerked something in his memories and he vaguely recalled them being used at gas stations.

He turned to Rowena. "Where did you get gasoline?"

She smiled at him, all teeth. "Now now, I can't just blurt out my secrets. Though, you see, we can't drink gasoline." She gave him a pointed look. "I've heard you have water."

He inclined his head in thought. "A discussion worth having once we have more time on our hands."

There wasn't much use for gasoline anymore, too long had the world been without it. No doubt Rowena had only recently managed to acquire it again. If the world was able to use it once more, even just in small quantities…the possibilities were endless.

Harry would be downright ecstatic to get his hands on gasoline.

Splashing the liquid onto the vegetation that blocked the railway was a quick procedure. The wood and bushes were green and fresh, the fire would probably not spread very far.

They lit a torch and threw it into the bushes, watching the fire leap onto the gasoline and flicker out into bushes and trees. In a few minutes the green barricade was ablaze.

Tom wondered if Harry would have enjoyed the spectacle. He couldn't decide whether he would have been fascinated by the power or cried about the destruction. Maybe both at once, he was such a contradictory little thing.

Tom shook his head to force the child out of his head. Judging situations in light of other people's enjoyment wasn't like him.

He needed to kill something - maybe that would remind him of who he was.

.

* * *

.

"When you say friend…" Rosier replied sceptically, watching the screaming groups clash in an uncoordinated bloodbath. "You mean she'll get us out of here right?"

Harry watched Luna galloping across the horde of men, knocking several of Greyback's followers down herself.

"Unless she claims that fate has brought us here and the cage is actually very friendly or something like that."

Rosier chuckled. "You've got weird friends."

Harry shot him a scathing look. "Speak for yourself."

One of Luna's men appeared suddenly by the cage and simply shot the lock to force it open. Then he pointed his gun at Harry and Rosier.

"You two, back away from the children!"

"Woah easy there," Rosier cautioned and held up his hands. "We don't want to see them hurt either. Are they yours?"

The man looked still a bit suspicious but lowered his gun and waved the kids out of the cage.

"No. They're from all kinds of groups. Greyback either keeps them after he defeats a group or steals them outright. Then he sells them like bloody ware."

Luna came riding towards them, her horse was so white it seemed to illuminate the night.

"Hello Harry," she greeted calmly, apparently completely unfazed to meet him there.

"Hi Luna! Uhm, I mean, milady."

She peered behind him, searching. "Where's your other half?"

"My-…what?" he sputtered confused.

Rosier snorted with laughter.

"My Lady!" Another man came running towards them. "We have the children, we need to retreat immediately. We might be able to fight Greyback's men, but the lord himself is untouchable. He's killing us off all on his own!"

Luna glanced at the wild tumult the two fighting groups caused. "No, we're finishing this."

"But-! But my lady! This is the third time we've fought him in the past three days! We finally succeeded to get the children, we have to go now or we'll lose for good!"

"If we let him go he will just kidnap and sell dozens of other children, I will _not_ let that happen."

There was something more real in her voice than the last time Harry had met her. The death of her man back at the ball had shocked her, but she seemed to have picked herself up and was an even better leader because of it.

Harry wished he could just lock her and Riddle into the same room for a day, maybe that would teach the bastard how to be a decent lord.

"Then what should we do? We don't even have the resources to feed all those children. And we're all going to get killed at this point!" Luna's man sounded slightly hysterical.

"We won't," Luna said with conviction and steered her horse around, riding directly into the fight.

"Fenrir Greyback, I challenge you to a duel. Let our fight decide the outcome for the rest of our groups."She didn't exactly raise her voice, but it somehow carried over the fighting men and floated in the air until everyone stopped moving.

Greyback straightened himself to his impressive height and sneered at the frail looking girl. "Give me back my merchandise witch, and I'll look passed your continuous ambushes. If you want children so badly go make some of your own."

To Harry's and everyone else's horror, Luna dismounted her horse and stood completely unprotected in front of Greyback. "No."

The lord's sneered deepened. "Then die."

Everyone scurried away, surrounding Luna and Greyback in a large circle.

Harry did not like where this was going. "Can they do that? This is insane!"

"Duels count as a challenge if both lords, or ladies, accept it at such," Rosier answered, spreading his hands in a helpless gesture.

Harry incredulously looked at Luna's men, but they were all watching their lady with worried frustration. He remembered Riddle describing them as particularly devout and guessed they hated standing by even more than he did.

But they were bound to obey Luna, Harry wasn't. Determined, he jumped out of the cage and started walking. Before he could make more than three steps, Rosier grabbed him by the waist from behind.

"What are you doing?!" he hissed in anger. "Let me go, we have to help her!"

"I'm saving your life idiot. And _that_ ," he nodded towards the centre where Luna and Greyback faced each other, "Is a particularly nasty way to commit suicide."

Harry started to struggle. "I don't fucking _care._ She's barely half his height! Let me go, you have no right to play the voice of reason."

"Sorry lordling, but if you die so do I."

"You bastard, she's my friend!"

"Then try having a bit faith in her."

Harry wanted to have faith in her, but she was so chipper and dreamy where Greyback was tough and ruthless. There was no way he could just stand here and watch.

"Harry I'm serious, I'll lock you back into the cage if you don't stop struggling."

Rosier using his name was so unusual it actually stopped him. He watched the proceedings in the circle anxiously.

Greyback tossed the knives he had used away and spat to the ground. "I don't need anything to squash your skull, girl, but feel free to use any weapon you like."

Luna looked at him with unnerving calmness before she threw her only dagger away as well and picked up a bow and two arrows instead.

Harry groaned with trepidation. What was she thinking? Greyback hadn't even blinked at his device that had knocked dozens of men down. Two arrows couldn't possibly be enough to bring that monster down, even if he would _let_ her shoot him. Once he got too close to her a bow wouldn't do her any good and there was simply no way she would win a brawl with him.

Greyback was apparently thinking along the same lines, judging from his wide grin. "You there," he drawled, pointing at a random man from Luna's group. "Count to three."

The man did so hesitantly. "Three…"

Greyback crouched, ready to sprint directly at Luna.

"…Two…"

Luna placed both arrows simultaneously in her bow.

"…One…"

Luna pulled the string taut.

"…Zero."

Greyback charged, Luna released the string. Greyback swatted the single arrow that flew straight at him away like an annoying fly.

Luna didn't make any move to defend herself. She simply stood there, her bow lowered, still impossibly calm while Greyback launched at her.

Harry however frantically searched the ground and the sky. Where the fuck was the second arrow? She had released them together so why the hell was there only one?

Greyback stood now right in front of the small lady. He stopped only to pull his fist back, ready to swing at her with all the massive force of his arm. Luna just looked up at him. Harry forgot how to breathe from worry.

Then Greyback made an odd little jerk with his whole body and simply crashed to the ground in front of her.

Harry blinked at the fallen lord just as stupidly as anyone else. Rosier released a sort of disbelieving giggle.

It was only after Luna took a step away from Greyback that Harry saw the second arrow sticking neatly out of the top of his head.

"How the hell..?"

"You can tell me what you want lordling, but that's sorcery right there. I might be good with a bow but jeez… Remind me not to get on her bad side."

Luna hadn't tried to defend herself because she had shot her second arrow exactly so that it would come piercing down on Greyback's head. How she had calculated the perfect timing was beyond Harry, just like it seemed impossible to shoot two arrows simultaneously in different directions.

Harry released a shuddering sigh of relief. So much for underestimating people, he could learn a thing or two from her.

"All right, my heart is beating again, we can go now."

Rosier finally released him. "Just like that? Don't you want to talk to your cute-turned-badass friend?"

Harry glanced at Luna who was being surrounded by the rescued children and smiled. "I have a feeling I'll see her around."

"Alright then." Rosier stretched and put his hands on his hips. "Now how the hell are we going to get our horses down?"

.

* * *

.

"Okay what the actual fuck is that?!"

"Well…" made Harry and peered down from Betty. "It's…uhm…"

He stared at the stone bridge. After another four days they had finally found a river - hopefully the right one - and a few hours of going upstream had in fact revealed a stone bridge as described in Grindelwald's letter.

The bridge was old and partially crumbling, but that was not the source for their bewilderment.

In the middle of the bridge and also further down at the end were painted arrows. They were big and clearly visible on the grey stones, no doubt pointing in the direction they were supposed to go.

The whole thing had a very belittling quality to it, as if they were kids being beckoned by their betters and not even worth sending a man to get them. Voldemort would absolutely hate it.

"That," Rosier insisted and pointed unnecessarily at the red arrow, "Is blood."

"Well… Technically it's blood mixed with…err…intestines? And I think that over there is a lung," Harry retorted unsure, considering the arrow with a mixture of disgust and curiosity.

"Subtle. Sooo, ah, that lord we'll be meeting… You sure about…ahm…"

Harry dismounted and clasped Betty's reins, carefully leading her over the half broken bridge.

"Okay fine, lead on then," Rosier sighed resigned and followed him.

The painted arrows steered them through the badly ruined village on the other side of the river, always accompanied with some sort of entrails.

Harry wondered if Grindelwald just had a flair for dramatics or if it was supposed to intimidate his guests. Maybe he was also completely insane, Harry certainly hadn't excluded that option.

Eventually they were led to a larger house slightly outside the village.

It must have been an impressive villa once, but it hadn't been spared from time either. While it was substantially better kept than the rest of the houses they had seen, it looked dirty and the garden bore more resemblance to a jungle. Thick ivy covered the house façade.

The arrows strangely enough didn't point them into the house but rather around it, to the backyard.

They tied the horses to a tree in front of the house and made their way through the wild garden.

Just before going around the corner, Harry remembered to take of his glasses and put them into his pockets. After all, he was supposed to be Voldemort now.

There weren't any arrows now, just a trail of disturbingly fresh blood.

"I really don't think-…Rosier?"

Harry had turned around but Rosier was nowhere in sight. Harry cursed and was about to head back when a voice around the corner spoke up.

"Is that voices I hear? Come, come, you've found me!"

Warily Harry made his way around the corner and into the backyard.

He came face to face with two men there. One evidently the source of all the blood, judging by his cut open stomach and various other deep slashes. He was tied down to a wooden chair and quite obviously dead.

The other man was languidly sitting in a second chair next to the dead man, twirling a long knife merrily in his right hand, not bothered by all the blood that had gotten on his own clothes.

What truly unsettled Harry though, was the fact that Grindelwald had to be the dead man. He had grey hair and was obviously older. The other man was younger, about Riddle's age, with black hair and a well-kept beard stubble.

"Lord Voldemort!" the man grinned. "Meet Gellert Grindelwald. He's, ah… an inspiration."

The man patted the dead man's shoulder amiably.

Harry's stomach lurched. Something was terribly wrong here, whatever he had expected from Grindelwald, he had never even considered the possibility of him dying.

"Oh I think it's starting," the man exclaimed excitedly and watched Grindelwald closely.

Harry remained silent, frowning at Grindelwald's body. Something odd was happening to the blood on him. Instead of tickling down it appeared to be sucked back in.

A finger twitched.

Harry's mind blanked. That was not possible. That was _not_ fucking possible.

The dead man's eyes snapped open.

Harry abandoned all hope to ever play Voldemort's part. "Oh _fuck me_."

The younger man turned his attention to him and smirked with just as much sharpness as Riddle.

"Tell me lord Voldemort… What do you know about immortality?"

 

 


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg this took way longer than it should have. I'm so sorry! My holidays turned out to be almost as stressful as the exam session.  
> You all deserve an award for being this patient with me and still tagging along. Special thanks to everyone who reviewed!  
> Enjoy :)

 

 

 

 

What.

"Fascinating isn't it?" the man asked and stabbed his knife right back into Grindelwald's feebly twitching body – _which really should not be twitching anymore_. "I tried a new experiment today and actually removed the organs and scattered them."

What.

"I noticed," Harry responded drily, his brain still blank.

"Ah yes, my sincerest apologies lord Voldemort, I wasn't trying to be crude. In the name of science you understand."

In the name of-… That was _not_ fucking science!

The man looked at Grindelwald in contemplation. "The only thing left to try is to burn him. But that seems like a waste of a good sample, no?"

"I had questions for him," Harry said hollowly, pointedly avoiding to look anywhere below Grindelwald's face.

The man nodded gracefully. "So did I. Why do you think he's in that condition in the first place?"

What.

None of this made any sense. Grindelwald was supposed to be the leader of the renovation guild. The man behind the chaos. The mastermind of the bad guys.

So why was Harry standing in his intestines?

He asked the only question he could think of that wasn't linked to bringing butchered men back from hell. "Who are you?"

The man's gaze left Grindelwald's tortured form and settled on him with the same amount of contemplation. "An interested party, someone who has only heard positive things about you, lord Voldemort."

What.

There was literally nothing positive to be heard about lord Voldemort.

"I believe we have much in common," the man continued.

"I try to wash now and then," Harry responded blankly and gave the bloodied clothes of the man a pointed look.

The man laughed. "Yes, that humour as well. But where are my manners? Forgive me, I waited a long time to meet you, I'm a bit giddy."

He didn't look giddy. He looked perfectly unconcerned about anything around him. He looked like someone who knew exactly what was going to happen. He looked in control.

Oh gods he looked like Riddle when he was playing with other people. Harry shivered involuntarily.

The man held out his blood-drenched hand for Harry to shake. "Salazar Slytherin."

Harry continued to stare blankly at the outstretched hand, making no inclination to shake the disgusting thing. "Pleasure."

Salazar didn't seem to take any offense in that. "Now that all the pleasantries have been exchanged, should we talk about the interesting things?"

Grindelwald groaned behind them, his voice growing stronger despite the knife that was still embedded where his heart should have been.

"Please do," Harry replied curtly, straining to keep his voice calm and failing miserably.

His head felt as if his brain was running around in circles while screaming in terror. The only reason why his legs didn't follow was because they wouldn't have supported his weight at the moment.

"Well this is already going much better than my previous attempts. The last idiot I talked to fainted on the spot."

Unconsciousness looked like a very wise and appealing choice to Harry at the moment.

Was he seriously going to pretend this was normal?!

He exhaled audibly, something between a sigh and a snort. "I can't imagine why."

Salazar gave the knife an extra twist before pulling it out wistfully. "I could do this all day."

That certainly cleared up the question regarding the man's sanity.

"Where is my fri-…my follower?"

Salazar waved his concerns away. "Oh don't worry, he's in good hands. With such things it just seems prudent to reduce the number of people that see it."

"And _What_ ," Harry hissed. "The. Fuck. Are we seeing?"

Salazar casually flicked the blood off his knife. "Like I said. Immortality."

Harry blinked, waiting in vain for Salazar to elaborate. Then he broke into a sneer that would have made Snape proud. "Yes of course _, obviously_. The weather is nice today no?"

Salazar smirked. "Exceptionally so."

Harry forced himself to take a deep breath to calm down. That guy was pissing him off with the same irritating deliberation he came to expect from Riddle.

He clenched his teeth to hide his frustration. "What do you want from me?"

Salazar sat back down on his chair, obviously enjoying the fact that Harry was forced to just stand there. "Nothing much. I believe our interests align. So tell me lord Voldemort, how far would you go for immortality?"

Harry wanted nothing to do with it except perhaps burn all evidence to ashes. His trepidation was strong enough to override his curiosity. Voldemort however… Hell, the lord's name practically proclaimed his interest.

"Consider me intrigued," he answered reluctantly.

"Oh yes, I remember being _intrigued_ when I first found out. You might be delighted to hear that the effects are indeed reproducible. But there begins our problem," Salazar sighed dramatically.

He looked at Grindelwald, who still seemed in pain, but whose wounds have closed up considerably.

"See, our interesting friend here has told me all about his grand plans and adventures. But at the very centre of it all, the core of his intriguing condition, there is nothing much at all. Nothing but a single name."

Grindelwald had recovered enough to simply hang limp in his chair, breathing heavily. When his eyes opened again they managed to focus on Harry.

And Harry realized with horror that he had spectacularly fucked up way before he even arrived here.

During everything that had happened and during all their planning, not once had they thought about whether Grindelwald knew him.

Genius indeed. Harry felt like laughing hysterically. This was just too good. Even Riddle had been fixated on the fact that Grindelwald couldn't possibly know how Voldemort looked. True, but what about how Harry looked?

Because there in the tortured man's eyes was unmistakably the one thing that would have doomed him even if their meeting had gone as planned.

Recognition.

"Harry Potter," Gellert whispered.

Harry froze, fully expecting Salazar to plunge his knife directly into his own heart without any further questions.

The man however seemed completely unperturbed and only nodded. "Yes, Harry Potter. Does that name mean anything to you, lord Voldemort?"

It took Harry several shocked seconds to realize that Salazar had remained ignorant of their equally stunned stare and assumed Grindelwald had merely continued the conversation.

Wait.

What.

"What does he have to do with anything?" Harry asked weakly.

"Oh everything," Salazar remarked offhandedly. "He's the only one that knows the formula."

.

* * *

.

They had known they were coming.

This, of course, was to be expected, as this was nothing but a trap.

It was however surprising that the Baron didn't even pretend to be clueless. Tom had thought he would have to make a formal challenge at least. But chaos had erupted from the moment they had stepped foot into the Baron's territory.

Apparently the guild was convinced enough that lord Voldemort and the annoying last hope of the resistance would die here. They didn't bother with pretence, they just wanted them dead and done with.

He had been prepared for the setup of course, but the blatant attack still irked him. A challenge would have been preferable. As it was, they were treated as attackers from the start and the scenario would likely end in a siege.

He had the tools to overwhelm the Baron in a fight, however unbalanced their numbers. He did not have the manpower to draw him out of his fortress if the lord chose to wait him out, should the small group unexpectedly pose a problem.

And a problem they would be.

So far only poorly equipped and even poorer trained villagers had attacked them. As far as Tom had understood it these people didn't actually belong to the Baron's group. Nonetheless they were under orders to kill them and they were exceptionally annoying.

Despite the constant onslaught of enemies during their march towards the Baron's fortress, they hadn't needed to take out Harry's swords. Tom wanted to keep them a secret for as long as possible, especially now that a challenge wasn't an option.

He calculated the amount of days until they could count on lady Ravenclaw's assistance. She had mentioned being close to the Baron's territory and she might have made it back by now, but it would still take her days to get ready and come here.

He hadn't wanted to count on her support, but without a challenge the element of surprise was taken from them and more men might provide him with the opportunity he needed.

They had to take cover as some of the villagers attacked them from the rooftops. Their aim was terrible though, and…were they throwing stones? Even for their standard that seemed a new low.

He left his cover and marched on, unfazed by the small missiles. What were they trying to achieve? Give him a black eye?

"Somebody kill those idiots," he ordered exasperated.

Bellatrix was already on her way up the rooftops, but got distracted by a screaming woman waving about with a long pipe.

The villagers were either entirely incompetent, or… Tom glanced up again at the people on the roof and their abysmal aim with the small stones.

Or, they weren't trying.

He looked back at Bellatrix, who would have had no problem with killing the woman, except now there was a younger man between them, completely unarmed except his fluttering arms. This was enough to give even Bella's bloodlust a pause and Tom caught her questioning look.

He strode over, while the man argued with Bellatrix.

"Don't kill her! No one wants to be here, you don't have to kill them! Just shove them away, beat them up a little bit or something-…"

"We wouldn't kill them," Tom interrupted, "If they weren't so insistent to throw themselves at us in their idiocy."

The young man turned to him with equal measures of imploration and indignation. "They don't have a choice!"

"We haven't done anything yet. We were attacked out of nowhere."

"Everyone knew you'd come and challenge the Baron, so it's hardly surprising he decided to stop you before it came to that."

Tom quirked an eyebrow at that. It was odd that everyone would be informed. "Then it's hardly surprising we defended ourselves and killed the attackers."

"You monster! They didn't want to attack you!"

It was the contempt in his eyes that triggered Tom's memory. The familiar features suddenly clicked into place and he noticed that the dirty hair was not actually brown, but fiery red.

Good gods, how many of them were there?

He narrowed his eyes while he tried to remember. The boy had Harry's age. Ron Weasley was it? Alive and well it seemed. Was anyone of that family actually dead?

He played with the idea to call him his name, just to see his shocked reaction. He also played with the idea to simply kill the fool.

But Harry wouldn't like that… Tom sighed.

"I will kill anyone that stands in my way. That includes yourself. So stop wasting my time and tell them to stop fighting if they don't want to die."

The unarmed idiot blanched at his cool tone. "I-I can't die here. I-… there's something I have to do."

"Fascinating," Tom sneered and pushed roughly past the younger man.

While it was interesting that the villagers apparently weren't actually trying to kill them and might have even been forced to fight, he certainly didn't plan to waste any more time talking to the idiots.

"W-wait!"

Tom let out an exasperated breath as he turned around once more. If it wasn't for his last name, he would have killed the boy on the spot.

"How many are there of you? I mean…Do you have a chance?"

"I didn't come here for chances. I came here to win," Tom proclaimed confidently.

The boy chewed nervously on his lips. "Do you mean that?"

"I always mean what I say."

Sometimes people were just too stupid to understand all the meanings behind what he said.

"They would help you, you know. If you asked them too, if they believed you could win."

Tom pressed his lips together in disdain. "They aren't capable enough to fight and have no weapons. They would be nothing but a hindrance. If they want to help then they should stop wasting my time."

"Then let me help you."

Tom gave him a disgusted look, but he seemed unfazed and pushed on.

"The Baron's headquarters are known to be impregnable. I'm the only one that has managed to sneak in and out. I know the layout, I can get you in. You'll have a hard time fighting him if he doesn't come out."

He had taken the boy as another one of the useless villagers, but his notion started to intrigue Tom. "And why would you do that?"

The boy gulped and clenched his fists in helpless rage. "He killed…someone very close to me."

And once again all the problems could be boiled down to human emotions. How…quaint. And useful.

If they could sneak into the rumoured impenetrable fortress, he would not have to wait for reinforcements. This could be quick and uncomplicated. An attack from within, extra confusion guaranteed.

Still. To sneak into the headquarters with only a handful of men. Surrounded by enemies and enclosed in a building with nowhere to run.

It would be mad.

"Lead the way."

.

* * *

.

"I know you have him."

It sounded neither accusatory nor threatening, it was just a simple irrefutable fact.

"I didn't deny it," Harry retaliated.

Salazar smiled knowingly. "You wanted to."

"You think…Harry Potter…knows a formula for eternal life?" Harry didn't need to pretend to sound incredulous.

Pictures of a wall painted in red writings flashed across his eyes. Snape's disdain at Harry's vandalism. The chemical bindings and properties that were completely wrong according to all current theories.

"I think my methods were sufficient to get him to speak the truth." Salazar nodded to Grindelwald.

"And why would he be the one - the only one - to know this magic formula?"

Salazar frowned lightly at his mocking tone. "You don't believe in immortality? Even after seeing the evidence?"

"I don't believe Harry Potter knows what you think he does."

Because I don't.

"Because he has never talked to you about it?" Salazar prodded.

Because I _am_ him damnit.

Harry restlessly crossed his arms in front of him. "His organs don't grow back when removed."

"Are you sure?"

Well… If he put it that way…

"You see, according to our friend here, Harry Potter was the first promising experiment. Created on the day the research material with the formula disappeared."

"Uuhhm…" was Harry's intelligent reply. By now, he felt like puking his guts out.

Salazar once again didn't seem to mind his lack of input. "There is someone who knows everything, the creator if you wish to call him such. Nicholas Flamel. And I would very much like to talk to him, but alas he is dead. As is all evidence of his research."

"The creator of eternal life is dead?" Harry asked sceptically.

"Apparently he never used it on himself. In fact if we believe Gellert, then he and Harry Potter are the only ones."

Marvellous.

Salazr leaned slightly forward in his chair, curious. "Tell me about the boy."

Harry tensed up further, if that was even possible. "And why would I do that?"

"Because you have many questions only I know the answers to."

"Questions _you_ forced upon me in the first place," he grumbled. He had had a million before today, now he had a few thousand more.

"Very well. I tell you what I know and you tell me if it makes any sense when compared to your experience. Deal?"

Harry found himself nodding before he could stop himself. His burning need for answers had gotten the better of him. He knew this would just pull him further into his fragile web of lies, but he doubted he would just be allowed to leave anyways.

Grindelwald followed their exchange silently with his eyes.

"I assume you know by now that the chaos was orchestrated by the renovation guild?"

Harry slightly inclined his head in response. How Salazar knew any of these things about him and Voldemort was beyond him.

"In the end, the guild attracted many different people, with different ambitions and different consciences. Some wanted power, some dreamed about creating a superior race, some genuinely strived for peace - under their rule of course. Fact is, very few people still knew what the original purpose was of the guild and who was at the core of it."

"Albus Dumbledore," Harry supplied, guessing Salazar already knew about Voldemort's encounter with him. What really interested him was whether he knew about their shared past as well.

"Co-founder, together with Grindelwald. You've met under interesting circumstances I heard. Tell me, how old would you say Dumbledore was?"

"Old…" Harry made vaguely.

"He was almost 110."

"Impossible."

People could get this old of course, but they certainly wouldn't be in Dumbledore's condition. He had been old, but still strong, steady on his feet and alert. Harry would have been hard pressed to belief he was over 80.

"Impossible might need a new definition," Salazar pointed out gleefully. "But don't worry, Dumbledore won't be crawling out of his grave anytime soon. He never got his hands on the finished product, only something close to it. Less potent, diluted in its effects. Fewer people required I imagine."

"Fewer people required?" Harry echoed hollowly.

"That's what the chaos was for in the first place. Not that they told anyone. It sounds better if you sprout some nonsense about renovation than the truth. Fact is the original goal of the guild was not what came _after_ the chaos, but what happened _during_ the chaos. Lots of people dying. Apparently that's the primary requirement for eternal life."

The worst part about his explanation was that it actually started to make some sense. "Conservation of energy…"

"Exactly. And how better to hide dead bodies than in an even larger pile of dead bodies? But then again, if killing people were the only requirement, then we would have quite a lot of immortals amongst us by now."

He leaned back in his chair and relaxed, playing with the knife again. Grindelwald and Harry both observed him mutely.

"Which brings us back to our mystery boy," Salazar continued. "They needed a test subject of course. They weren't about to try it on themselves. And Harry Potter had been a thorn in their sides since he was born. They thought it was symbolic. The thing that intrigues me most however, is the fact that at this point the boy was a vegetable."

Harry remained silent, trying to keep his breathing regular.

Salazar cocked his head thoughtfully. "I heard he's a genius now."

Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Not a vegetable in any case. Though his mind had been tampered with by Dumbledore before any of the things you just described could have happened to him."

"Yes, fascinating is it not? Just imagine the different effects interfering with each other. The implication of the distinct reactions within one individual is beyond intriguing. The first almost destroyed him, the second…what? Healed him? Made him immortal? Something else entirely? So tell me, what is he like?"

"Normal…" Harry challenged.

Salazar laughed. "Oh I highly doubt that. He's extraordinary even without the knowledge of the formula. With it he's invaluable."

"You want my help in getting him," Harry stated blankly.

What was he supposed to do? He needed to play Voldemort, otherwise Salazar would probably dissect him right then and there. But he couldn't just agree now could he? That would mean Salazar would actually expect him to deliver what he wanted. But if he didn't agree then things would definitely get ugly. And he would never find out what was wrong with him, let alone how to fix it.

Besides, what _would_ Riddle do if offered a chance at immortality? What if Harry stood between him and the cure to the one thing he seemed to fear most? Hell, what was he supposed to tell Riddle once he was back home?

"It would be beneficial to us both," Salazar answered. "I have the information of Grindelwald, you have the information the boy can give you. If we collaborate we can get what we desire without stepping on each other's toes."

_Yeah all that's left is killing a few thousand people. No big deal._

"Let me talk to him first. There's no need for drastic measures if I can get the information in other ways," Harry suggested, praying the other would agree.

"My thoughts exactly! Now…" he stood up gracefully and gestured to the house. "I do have another surprise for you lord Voldemort. A gift, actually."

Harry had had quite enough surprises for today and all he wanted was to get the fuck out of Salazar's reach.

Slazar entered the house, calling for someone.

This momentarily left Harry alone with Grindelwald. They stared at each other. It was abundantly clear to them both that neither had any control over the situation.

"You have to get me out of here," Grindelwald said at last.

Harry snorted. "Why the fuck should I?! I know what you did."

"I didn't tell him who you are did I? He will realize it soon you know. You better be far away from here when he does."

Harry shudder at the thought of Salazar finding out the truth. "That's none of your concern."

"The whole world should be concerned about him. Humans go mad when immortality is dangled in front of them. I have learned my lesson, do you think he ever will? If he isn't stopped our world will burn once more and you're going to be at the epicentre of it."

"Learned your lesson? I'm supposed to believe that?" Harry hissed back harshly.

"We are not made for eternal life."

"Oh great, so now you're regretting?"

Grindelwald looked at him sharply. "Why do you think Slytherin found me here in a remote area with no followers? Why do you think I live like a hermit instead of ruling the planet?"

"Well it's a bit late for repenting don't you think?"

He turned around briskly and started to leave.

"He's going to kill you boy," Grindelwald whispered after him. "You and everyone you know."

Harry whirled around. " _Can_ I die?"

"I don't know. We certainly thought you were dead for good."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Grindelwald made a motion that would have been a shrug if he weren't bound to the chair so tightly. "It means you were dead. And now you're not."

Harry threw his hands in the air. "Wonderful, just bloody marvellous. The fuck did you do to me?!"

"I don't know."

"What?!"

"Slytherin is right. You're something else entirely. If you were like me then you wouldn't have died in the first place. And you wouldn't be a man now, you'd still be a boy, frozen in time," Grindelwald explained.

Harry took a deep breath, then took a few steps closer to the bound man. "How can I undo it?"

"I didn't lie when I said no one knows how it's done. You're the only one alive that has seen Flamel's research."

Something in Harry snapped. "Fuck you and your goddamn guild! I hope Salazar finds a way to kill you so you can rot in hell!"

"You will need my help," Grindelwald insisted.

"I do _not._ I've had it with you psychos," he hissed and turned back towards the house, entering the side door quickly and shutting the door with more force than necessary.

He would have taken the chance to run, but Rosier was still absent. He just hoped he hadn't ended up as Salazar's newest plaything.

He didn't have to wonder for much longer. As he entered the house's living room, Rosier was standing in one of the corners, eyeing another man warily.

His hair was straw blond, but if Bellatrix had a male counterpart, it would have to be this one. Harry didn't like the implications of that conclusion one bit.

"There you are lord Voldemort!" Salazar smiled sharply. "Meet Barty Crouch. He was very eager to meet you. Why, he downright adores you."

The man practically hopped towards him, a burlap bag clutched tightly in his arms and a manic glint in his eyes.

"It is such an honour to meet you my lord! I had hoped-…no, I had _dreamed_ you would consider to make me one of your followers."

Well, shit.

"I have - I have proof of my worthiness! I have uncovered a plot-….A betrayal… He wanted to set a trap…in your most recent challenge."

He untied the bag hastily and flipped it over.

A severed head dropped to the ground right before Harry's feet.

"It's my father," Barty said eagerly.

Oh hell.

Would this day ever end?

.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay but seriously, I need them together again.  
> Well I should be able to reunite them in the next chapter. Fingers crossed.
> 
> Regarding Salazar, I do realize stereotypically he should probably have a blank pureblood mask on or something. But from the few things we actually know about him (close friends with Gryffindor, more of a scholar than anything) I chose to see him less like the archtypical slytherin and more as a sort of mad genius with Tom's mainpulative streak. You know, the kind that hides a giant chamber and a fucking basilisk in a school without telling his four friends about it lol. Just because he can.He's much saner (and thus even more dangerous) than he lets on though.
> 
> Leave your thoughts here pretty please :)
> 
> Also, you can now find me on tumblr under terrific-lunacy. Feel free to drop by and ask me random stuff ;)


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehehe, uhhh, hi? Don't kill me please.
> 
> I was trying I swear, but life wants to toughen me up or something. Free time is cancelled. When and where exactly did I sign my soul away?
> 
> Also technically it would be Blurring Reality's turn to be updated, but you get this instead because...uhm, no reason really.
> 
> Enjoy :)!

 

 

 

 

"Charmed," Harry drawled.

He pointedly took a step back to avoid touching the severed head. The straw blond man looked at him like an overeager puppy.

"Ugh, no wonder it stinks in here," Rosier muttered, glancing at the head in disdain.

"It is but a few weeks old!" Barty exclaimed defensive.

A few weeks?!

Harry took another measured step back.

"Barty here has quite the soft spot for you, lord Voldemort," Salazar said lazily. "Apparently you rescued him unintentionally during a challenge about a year ago."

Yeah trust Riddle to rescue the complete psychos instead of the nice people.

"My father," Barty spat at the head – _oh great now there's spit as well_ – "Kept me looked up. But you, my lord, challenged him and I could finally break free! I've been dreaming about meeting you ever since!"

Harry had serious doubts about Voldemort's intention to actually rescue anyone, but apparently a coincidence was enough for Barty.

He glanced back down at the head. So he had been a lord? It must have been one of Riddle's earliest challenges. Harry suddenly realized he knew next to nothing about Riddle's time as a lord before they met.

"If you killed him then what happened to the territory?" Harry asked, guessing that sort of thing was important to lords and thus should be of concern for Voldemort.

"Oh a friend of mine is tending to it, until you decide otherwise of course. I-I know you were merciful when you didn't kill my father, but…but he was a _bad_ man! He wasn't loyal to you my lord! He betrayed you as soon as he got the chance! He was helping set a trap to kill you during your next challenge. You mustn't go there!"

"How sweet," Rosier scoffed.

They were already there… But Barty didn't know that. For him, lord Voldemort stood right in front of him. Harry guessed Barty's father had also been involved with Scrimgeour, setting Voldemort and Harry up to die at the hands of the Baron.

"I've met Barty while I was searching for a way to contact you," Salazar said. "Apparently we both had the same goal. He has been following you around, or rather he was following rumours about you. He was also the one to tell me that a boy named Harry Potter recently joined your group. I told him you were on your way here, so he waited."

Wonderful, Riddle had a stalker.

His continued silence seemed to make Barty even more hyper. "May I join you? I beg you, it would be such an honour!"

_Ugh._

Harry really didn't want to be anywhere near the man. On the other hand, he had to play Voldemort's part and an eager follower that was ready to kill his own father would surely seem appealing to a lord.

"Come now lord Voldemort, poor Barty here has been dying to join you for a very long time," Salazar said encouraging.

 _Yes and he'll probably report back to you, you two-faced crazy son of a venomous snake,_ Harry cursed internally.

"Fine he can come with us," he sighed defeated.

Rosier gave him an appalled look.

"Wonderful, isn't it Barty?" Salazar smirked at the other man.

Barty seemed to be momentarily lost for words, before only Rosier's intervention prevented him from falling over Harry.

"Thank you, my lord! You have no idea how much thi-…"

"Yes, yes," Harry interrupted annoyed and turned back to face Salazar. "Any more surprises?"

Salazar held out his hands and shrugged. "I'm all out of surprises at the moment. Though I'll make sure to have some more when we see each other again. I do so hope we'll meet again soon. I cannot wait to start discussing theories with that boy genius of yours."

_More like dissecting me you mean._

"Until we meet again," Harry nodded graciously. "And err, keep the head."

They left the house as quickly as possible without it seeming obviously hurried.

Harry forced Rosier to share his horse with Barty, which earned him another scathing look, though Barty didn't seem to mind. In fact the man appeared to be in an almost dream-like state for the moment.

Harry led on and forced Betty to a speed that was just barely not a full blown gallop.

Rosier kept shooting questioning glances at him. No doubt he was wondering what had happened between him and Salazar that made Harry flee like that.

They arrived at the broken bridge and had to slow down.

"So…Can we talk about it yet?" Rosier asked sceptically and nodded to Barty.

"He's coming back with us to Hogwarts," Harry replied firmly. Let Riddle deal with it.

"Uh-huh," Rosier made and dismounted to lead his horse across the bridge.

Harry did the same and followed.

They once again walked past the grotesque array of intestines lying around. Body parts that Harry now knew belonged to a man who was very much still alive.

"Has that been here before?" Rosier asked and frowned at something on the ground right after the bridge. "Actually, didn't you tell me you were imitating lord Voldemort for this meeting?"

"I was…"

Harry came to a stop next to the others. There on the ground was a new smear of blood, obviously fresh and even more obviously clearly spelled.

UNTIL NEXT TIME, HARRY

Well holy _shit._

 

* * *

 

Tom rather liked well though-out plans. But sometimes when all careful plans failed it was time to try something crazy. That was why Harry was so unpredictable. His plans usually skipped the careful phase altogether.

But Harry wasn't here and Tom had never planned to invade the Baron's fortress. So he couldn't really tell how well it was going.

They had been crawling through old sewers for a good thirty minutes. Intuitively that classified as 'not good'.

"If this is just a plan to look down on us," Lucius muttered behind him and shot the redhead a chilling look.

"It's the only way in!" Weasley protested for about the hundredth time.

"We could still take the front door, my lord," Bellatrix said eagerly. "Our swords can cut through anything, surely we could have invaded the fortress like that!"

"We need a surprise, Bella. Popping up in the middle of them will have a much bigger effect."

Tom had no idea why he had answered her question. Maybe he was getting used to talking about his plans now. That was definitely Harry's fault as well.

He hissed irritated. If that boy invaded his thoughts one more time-…

"We're here," Weasley whispered.

Above them was a sort of hatch that had seen better days. They had passed dozens of these on their way here and had made countless of turns in the underground tunnels. The Weasley boy had kept his promise and led them confidently to their goal.

"If we're going through here we'll land in one of their bathrooms."

"Fantastic," Lucius spat.

"Swords ready," Tom commanded, taking out his own.

Not everyone had one. Harry had only managed to make about a dozen and he had given them to his best fighters. The rest would have to make do with their usual weapons.

"The hatch is locked, but I should be able to get it open pretty fast," Weasley said.

"Don't bother," Bellatrix laughed excited and activated her sword.

She pushed past the Weasley boy and slashed the hatch with it, cutting through the rusty metal plate like butter.

Weasley's eyes went wide. "Wicked!"

Bella grinned at him. "That's Harry for you."

Tom could see the exact moment when realization dawned on the boy.

"Harry…Potter?"

"Yup. Now let's go kill some people," Bella jeered and pushed herself up through the hole.

Tom kept watching the boy.

He knew for a fact that Ron should not have been able to remember Harry. The twins had told them Harry had stayed with them, while their youngest brother, sister and her mother had been separated from them while Harry was still a toddler. So where then had he heard about him?

Weasley remained frozen while more of his group climbed through the hole. Then the redhead turned towards Tom.

Before he could ask any annoying questions Tom went up as well.

By the time he exited the bathroom Bellatrix and some others had found their first victims. They were keeping their swords red for the moment, matching the Baron's followers.

Tom had instructed them to keep them red for as long as possible. He wanted them to belief they had merely copied the blade. As long as they could keep up with the fight he saw no need to reveal their last trump card.

The first little group of the Baron's men were cut down before they even had the chance to take out their own swords.

A handful of other men reacted a bit quicker and managed to counter their attack, though they were overwhelmed easily.

For now everything was still relatively silent, but Tom knew the commotion would soon become louder and alert more people. In fact…

He turned to the Weasley boy. "You. Scream."

"What?"

Tom towered over him and the poor thing paled again. " _Scream_ or I'll make you."

The redhead stared at him wide-eyed, but finally took a deep breath and screamed.

Screams had a peculiar effect on people. They tended to rush towards the source of it without much thinking. Hopefully the Baron's men in the vicinity would do the same, without alerting the rest of their group. If they came at them in scattered groups they would be much easier to deal with.

He was right.

The majority of the men and women even came alone, probably abandoning their posts in order to investigate the commotion.

Still, that was only the tip of the iceberg. They needed to find the Baron. Surely he would be surrounded by his group if he really was as paranoid as people said.

"Where does the Baron hold his meetings?" he asked Weasley.

"In the old throne room of the fortress, one floor above us."

The redhead moved quickly to lead the way and his group followed.

They were making progress rather slowly, often bumping into another cluster of enemies. Tom didn't need to order someone to scream again, now the fighting had taken up intensity and the men screamed enough as it was.

Some of them even possessed enough wit to run away from the fight, probably to alert the rest of their group that there were intruders. His group tried to kill them before they could get away, but some still managed to escape in the chaos.

The rest of the Baron's group would probably cluster around him now, expecting them. Tom didn't know how large exactly the group was, but he guessed even with the causalities in the corridors, they would still outnumber his group substantially.

But they were just as stuck in the fortress as Tom's group. If they _did_ gather around the Baron, then they would all be in the same room. Tom could work with that.

They moved up the stairs, quickly now, as all their enemies stopped trying to engage them and ran instead to gather with the others.

Tom made a fast head count. 3 causalities on their side so far. It was to be expected. Those that did not have a sword and didn't manage to stay out of range from the enemies had no way to defend themselves.

They arrived at a huge double door that, surprisingly, was barricaded. The Baron had known they would have copies of the swords. It was part of their set-up. So a door wouldn't stop them. Though it did hinder them, as they couldn't see what was inside the room.

Bellatrix was already carving at the door.

"Bella, make sure you stand at the side. Everyone to the walls, they could use arrows or bullets. Snape, be ready."

The pale man merely nodded in acknowledgement. At least one of his men was thinking along.

Bellatrix finished cutting a wide circle into the door and kicked the heavy wood in before crouching to the side.

Tom really had expected to be assaulted by arrows. By forcing them to enter from one point only the other group could have hit them pretty badly.

Instead there was nothing. The large room behind the door was full with men and women, holding out their red swords but no other weapons.

Tom realized that the Baron had gotten so used to win with his wonder weapon that he forgot other weapons could be just as deadly.

"Fire, now," he instructed calmly.

The men that didn't have a sword were mostly equipped with ranged weapons, since they would lose in close combat immediately.

Archers aimed and bullets were fired. He saw some of the front men go down, but after that his vision was obscured.

Snape had thrown a smoke bomb into the room, courtesy of Harry. Tom could hear a loud bang after that, another one of Harry's devices that would immobilize everyone in vicinity.

Tom still didn't quite know how that worked. Harry had tried to explain it to him once. Something about the vestibular system in the inner ear. Tom rather liked the effect of it.

The thick smoke prevented everyone from seeing further than their own hands, but the swords glowed clearly visible.

"Change to blue. Cut everything down that is red."

Bella was the first to storm the room, as usual.

It was pure chaos after that. No one could see anything and thus it was impossible to get an overview of the battle. The cramped space only served to amplify the confusion.

Some of the Baron's men in the front were yelling that their enemies had blue swords. They didn't get a chance to tell their comrades about what those blue swords could do.

Snape kept throwing smoke bombs in from the door, keeping the whole room covered.

Those of his men that didn't have a sword could move in the thick mist without being seen. Those that had swords only had to change back to red whenever they got too close to a group of enemies. The Baron's men had no way to distinguish them from their comrades. Instead they mindlessly charged at everything that glowed blue, until that blue also turned red and disappeared into the crowd.

Still, the Baron's number was overwhelming compared to them. One bad manoeuvre and not even the best fighter could have defended themselves. Just one hit from the swords was usually deadly.

They had to take advantage of the confusion as quickly as possible and level the field.

It helped that Tom had better fighters. The Baron's men had grown dependent on their swords. The weapon gave them such a huge advantage that it made up for lack of skill. Now that they were faced with equally and even better equipped enemies they stood little chance.

If Harry would have had more time to make more swords the fight would have been easy. As it was they had to step carefully to not get overwhelmed.

Tom was cutting his way through another handful of bodies when he noticed that the vision began to clear up.

Someone had started to open the windows, letting the smoke out.

One of the Baron's men noticed him and attacked. Tom blocked with red and cut him down with blue. Apparently they still hadn't understood that part.

The Baron's numbers were reduced to at least half their original size. As Tom surveyed the fight he spotted him.

The Baron wasn't too impressing to look at. Thin and pale, with a gaunt face and silvery hair, he fought surrounded by a circle of protective followers.

The man fought well. Remarkably well actually.

The kind that would make a Hero throw away his advantage and fight fair, for honour, for the thrill of it. Two lords, determining who the best was by duel.

What a shame.

Tom was no hero.

 

* * *

 

Those people were crazy.

Every single one of them.

Ron cowered behind the door frame, next to the dark bat-like man who kept throwing weird things into the chaos before them.

Ron shouldn't even be here.

He wanted revenge yes, but it's not as if he had to be the one to kill the Baron. As long as the monster was dead Ron was happy.

So he had helped the small group into the fortress, planning to stay out of their fight and if necessary even run away.

They were an incredibly small group for challenging the Baron's forces, but Ron had thought a small chance was better than none. If they lost…well, what did he care?

But they knew Harry Potter.

Ron's mind was still trying to digest that fact. Why was the group truly here? Ron had assumed like everyone else that it was some new lord who wanted the territory and fame, but now he had doubts.

Coincidence? Not likely, not after Hermione had died for that name. Something had to connect Harry and them to the Baron. And how had they gotten the Baron's swords? None of the other challengers had had that.

Whatever their reason, Ron couldn't leave without them. And that meant he had to stick around, watching the bloodbath in front of him. If they lost, his only clue about the whereabouts of Harry would be lost as well.

To Ron's surprise the small group could actually hold its own. They had quite a few tricks up their sleeves, even without the swords.

But who would just charge into a full hall of enemies like that? And blind? And the man next to him just kept throwing explosives and whatnot in there. Wasn't he afraid to kill his own comrades?

Did they even care? Their lord hadn't even blinked when some of his men died in front of him.

Maybe the townspeople were right, a lord that could best the Baron would be just as bad.

But Ron didn't have to think about that anymore. He needed to know how they knew Harry.

Once the smoke began to clear up a bit, Ron saw who he was looking for.

He had never seen the Baron fight, but he had heard stories. Like all tales about the cruel lord Ron had believed them to be exaggerated. He now could see that they were terrifyingly accurate.

Coupled with his paranoia, the man's excellent fighting skills had protected him from any challenger so far.

He saw the other lord walk towards the Baron – did he just take on four men at once? – crazy, the whole bunch of them.

He saw the black haired women throw her sword away like a spear, taking two people down.

He saw the blond man and women fight back to back, surrounded by another half dozen men.

The man next to him threw another one of those loud devices in and a good dozen men just crumbled to the ground for no apparent reason.

Ron could see people fighting and dying all around him, but two figures soon captured his whole attention.

The lord had cut his way through the ring of followers that had protected the Baron and engaged the other lord.

It was clear those two were on another level from the rest. The others just jumped each other and hoped they would be the first to land a hit.

The two lords moved gracefully around each other, their red swords clashing at an incredible speed.

One of the Baron's men noticed the fight and charged in, aiming for the lord.

Ron cried out on reflex, but a blue sword hissed through the air and pierced the man. Probably the dark haired women again, no one else seemed crazy enough to throw their wonder weapon around like that.

Some more men tried to stop the lord from attacking the Baron, but they were shot down from afar.

The synchronicity of the small group was incredible. They were still outnumbered, but not only managed to fight their enemies, they also protected each other in a seemingly random fashion.

The Baron seemed to get more desperate now, attacking the lord more viciously. But both swords were still red.

Ron had seen the blue ones passing right through the red ones. If the Baron still hadn't caught up to that fact then the lord only needed one opportunity to cut him down.

The man got his chance a few minutes later. Ron saw his sword flash blue and the Baron cried out in pain.

He had severed his sword hand, Ron realized, as the Baron curled up on the floor.

His men didn't seem to know what to do after that. They continued to fight half-heartedly for a while before most of them decided to simply give up.

Seeing that the Baron was still alive, Ron took his chances and rushed over.

The Baron stared up at the lord with hateful eyes. "You won't…be able to foil….our plans forever."

"I don't intend to," the lord replied coolly, "I intend to destroy them."

"The…guild…will know."

"The _guild,_ " spat the lord, "Will receive your head as a little promise of more to come."

The Baron made some wheezing sounds and Ron realized the man was actually laughing. "That would be…a declaration of war."

The lord remained unimpressed. "Then war we will have."

The lord raised his sword and Ron hastily jumped in. "Wait! I want to talk to him!"

An angry hiss answered him. "Don't push your luck kid."

Ron kneeled down next to the Baron and grabbed him by the hem of his shirt. "Remember Hermione Granger? Yeah? Well I wanted to tell you she succeeded. You hear me?! I know about Harry Potter!"

The man laughed again, half delirious from pain.

"And what pray tell do you know about Potter? It doesn't even matter!"

"I-…"

The Baron surged up, grabbing Ron's hair with his one hand and whispered in his ear. "That boy's clock is ticking anyways. Ironic isn't it?"

Ron reared back and scrambled away from him.

"If you're quite done," the lord drawled behind him, "I need his head."

Ron stared at the Baron before he gathered himself up and spat at the monster that had terrorized him for so long. "Take it."

The rest of the Baron's group had been rounded up in one corner of the hall. Ron would have had to count to be sure, but it seemed as if they actually still outnumbered the small group.

The bat-like fellow approached them and handed his lord a bag for the head.

"14 causalities, my lord."

"We will need to stay for a few days at least," the lord said, simply brushing over the fact he just heard. "This territory is too far away from ours to govern it properly. We will wait for lady Ravenclaw here. It should give us enough reason to strengthen our alliance."

"What about the rest of the group, my lord?"

The lord only spared a glance for the assembled people. "Kill them."

"My lord," the pale man began tentatively. "Harry-…"

"I _said_ kill them."

"Yes my lord," the man bowed and left.

Harry again… Ron wondered what kind of relation he had to this group that they brought him up so often.

Ron turned to the lord warily. He held no sympathy for the Baron's men, since they were almost just as guilty as their lord, but he shuddered at the thought that he had dismissed so many lives so easily.

Still, he needed to go wherever this man went if he wanted to find Harry Potter.

"I-…"

"Bella!" the lord shouted before Ron could speak.

The black haired women jogged over.

The lord suddenly grabbed Ron's shoulder and pushed him towards her. "He's the souvenir."

She blinked perplexed and then grinned. "Can I tie him up?"

"I don't care."

"What?" Ron protested, trying to get away from the women.

"You're coming with us," the lord said. "That's what you want anyways isn't it?"

"Come with you where?" Ron asked.

"Home."

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeeeesss I know what you're thinking. 'You told us they would be together again!' Yeah see that's why I really should stop making any kind of predicitons.  
> That being said, they will be reunited in the next chapter. Pinky swear. (No really, right from the beginning of it.)  
> Also I'm way too excited to have them together again, so hopefully that will translate to a faster update (?).
> 
> This chapter was a bit Tom & co. heavy. I did try to balance their storylines over the past 4 capters, but well...I failed.
> 
> Hope to see you soon :)! Stay awesome!


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you look at that I was fast! Well...not really. Just faster...Than last time... Slower than most times actually... Well it's here now isn't it?!
> 
> I love every single one of your reviews so thanks a bunch :3!
> 
> Enjoy :)

 

 

 

 

Harry had not allowed himself to think about Riddle…much.

Frankly, the hectic and eventful travels to an unknown destination, the mindboggling revelations at said destination and his travel companions had left little room to concentrate on anything else.

The sharp pang of worry Harry felt when Hogwarts' silhouette first came into view in the distance hit him completely unexpected.

There were plenty of reasons why he would arrive before them of course. So even if he was first, which he didn't even know yet, there would be no cause for worry.

Riddle's group should have been faster technically, with their train and all, but who knew how well the tracks were conserved, or what happened on the way, or how long they had to wait to challenge the Baron, or how long the fight lasted, or if they had to stay afterwards, or if someone was injured and they couldn't move on-

Actually strike that, Riddle would never wait just because someone was injured. Unless he was the one to be injured…but _that_ was another level of absurdity entirely. Surely.

He had seen the man fight, his fucking arrogance was probably enough to keep anyone from even attacking him. And even if he was attacked, like, just _if_ -

"Relax, lordling."

Harry snapped his head around to scowl at Rosier, who was riding next to him. "I am relaxed. There's no need to relax. I'm not tense. At all."

Rosier had a stupidly satisfied grin plastered on his lips. "Well, I was going to point out that you can see the train from here, but _obviously_ you're not interested."

Harry pushed his glasses up a bit more and squinted his eyes. The train at the foot of the small hill could only barely be made out, thanks to the morning sun that reflected on its surface.

Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Rosier practically doubled over in laughter.

Harry fixed him with a dark look. "Has it ever occurred to you that I am tense _because_ I'll have to meet all those lunatics again?"

"Not even for a second," Rosier pressed out between gasps of air.

"A truly magnificent castle, my lord!"

Harry sighed and turned his head a bit further to look at Barty, who was sitting behind Rosier. "Barty… We've been over this…"

"Yes my lord!" Barty beamed happily.

"He's not going to get it is he?" Harry asked Rosier.

"Maybe if he actually stands before him?" Rosier glanced back at Barty and shrugged.

If he stands before him… And what about Harry standing before _him_?

His hands tensed around the reins. Ugh, oh just great now he was getting nervous as well.

It turned out that neither of them had really beaten the other in terms of arrival.

They passed the empty train, but it was evident Riddle and the rest of his group had not been here long.

When Harry finally managed to force Betty up the hill, he could see the group milling about in front of the castle. Most were still occupied with carrying baggage from the train to the castle.

With a small groan of relief, Harry dismounted and stretched, his eyes sweeping over the assembled faces.

It was Snape who noticed him first. His face remained impassive as he gave Harry a small nod, then he returned to unpacking. The minimalistic greeting almost made Harry believe that no time had passed at all.

Except that in the next second he found himself almost run over by Bellatrix.

"Oh lordling!" she said loudly and waved her sword - Harry's sword - uncomfortably close before his face. It was flickering though.

"You gotta do something about this! I need it you know. I went _swish_ and _fuwah_ and _badump_ and then _zac_ and oh you should have seen it, it was so much fun!"

"Err, yeah sounds great Bella." Harry tried to lean away from the flickering sword.

"Anyways how much time until you can recharge it?"

Harry really didn't want to let Bellatrix keep the sword. She was dangerous enough as it is. Sadly she would never take no for an answer, so he had to come up with some kind of excuse to put it off.

"Uhm, well it shouldn't take too long. If you even need it here you know, I'd need Riddle's permission…"

"Permission granted," a smooth voice interrupted from behind.

"Fuck you, I was trying to-…"

The words died in his mouth as he turned around. Riddle hovered over him, his eyes never leaving Harry's face.

Had that bloody man always been this tall? And that smirk always so smug? His presence always so suffocating? And did he really have to stand so close?

Harry cursed silently when he realized he had done nothing but stare at him stupidly.

Riddle quirked an eyebrow, amused. "Yes?"

That infuriating…bloody…fucking… _bastard._

Before Harry knew what he was doing, his hands had grabbed the hem of Riddle's shirt, tugging him down. Their lips crashed together for just a second before Harry released him electrified.

Damn that bastard and his aura, Harry wasn't used to his presence anymore. He needed to build up his defences again.

He scowled at Riddle's smug face. "That just…kind of happened. I-I didn't want to. It's your fault!"

"How was your mission?" Riddle asked, thankfully not commenting on Harry's actions, though his lips were twitching to suppress his smirk.

"I failed in every possible aspect," Harry said drily. "How was yours?"

Riddle's eyebrows rose at Harry's curt answer. "Rather more productive I'd say."

"Well duh," Harry huffed. "You had _my_ inventions. I had an out-of-tune jukebox and a horse with your temper."

"You also had yourself. I'm sure that was enough to beat all the obstacles."

Harry snorted. "Still trying out corny lines, Riddle?"

Riddle shrugged. "I had a lot of time to think. It's surprisingly peaceful when your trouble magnet is somewhere else."

"I was getting by just fine in London," Harry protested. He had attracted trouble even back then of course, but he certainly wasn't going to tell him that.

"Ah the bliss of ignorance I suppose." Riddle leaned forward, extending his hand as if to cup his cheek, but stopping a hairwidth before. Harry could feel the heat radiating from the hand. "Have I not opened your eyes in many ways, _Harry_?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Fuck you."

Riddle smirked, tracing his cheekbone with a thumb. "In due time."

Harry fumed. "You-..!"

"I brought you a souvenir." Riddle withdrew and straightened, leaving Harry reeling.

He was about to punch the bastard's nose when he saw that Riddle didn't point at some _thing_ but at someone.

Someone with red hair and a familiar face, who had apparently been watching them for quite a while now. Harry could feel the heat creep up to his ears from embarrassment.

"That actually answered a few of my questions. And raised a whole bunch of new ones," the young man mused.

"I know the feeling," Harry replied wryly.

The redhead offered his hand to shake. "Ron Weasley."

"Yes I-…" Harry broke off. _I know_ , seemed like the wrong thing to say. "Harry Potter."

He shook his hand. "Yeah…weird."

"Err, it usually takes people a few minutes to realize that," Harry said jokingly.

"Huh."

"Uhm right, so err…" Harry scratched his head uncertain. "And…what do you want from me?"

Ron let out a small laugh. "I actually have no idea mate."

"Oh," Harry blinked at him. "We will…work something out, I'm sure."

Ron looked as if he wanted to say more, but in that moment Bellatrix appeared again, simply grabbing him by the arm and dragged him off without offering any explanation.

Harry made a few steps after them, but decided otherwise and turned back to Riddle.

"A Weasley?! Where did you find him?"

The lord shrugged impassive. "He helped us, actually."

"Did you tell him about..?" Harry made a few helpless gestures with his hands that should somehow describe the mess they - and the rest of the Weasley family - were in.

"No, you're better at this sort of thing."

"I am _not_ ," Harry hissed. "So what you just kidnapped him?"

"He was looking for you I think."

"You _think_?"

"Well he hasn't tried to run away yet," Riddle pointed out rather unhelpfully.

"That's not much to go on!"

Riddle leaned forward again, causing Harry to stumble a few steps back. "You can ask him the questions you know."

"I-…"

"Is this man bothering you, my lord?"

Harry sighed wearily when he heard the familiar voice. Barty had approached them, Rosier trailing slightly behind him.

Riddle gave the unknown man an appraising look before glancing at him questioningly. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Barty… This is lord Voldemort," Harry explained slowly, gesturing to Riddle. "I'm Harry. _Just_ Harry."

"Yes my lord."

"No- _he_ is-…ugh," Harry rubbed his temples in annoyance.

Barty frowned at him, clearly worried as to what had caused him such distress. Then his eyes lit up with understanding.

"Should I treat him as a lord, my lord?"

"No-…I mean, yes- I mean, he _is_ your lord. I-…fucking hell."

Harry hid his face in his hands and groaned.

He and Rosier had been trying to make Barty understand throughout their journey back, but the man had proven stubbornly set on the idea that Harry was Voldemort.

Riddle chuckled. "Making followers again, child?"

"Shut _up_ , this is your fault as well."

Riddle fixed him with one of those stares that could physically hold someone in place. "We seem to have a lot to talk about."

Harry sighed reluctantly. "Yes, but first I need Snape."

The lord's eyes darkened. "That can wait."

"I assure you it can't," Harry hissed back.

Red eyes narrowed further. "Do you need medical attention?"

"What? No!"

Riddle relaxed. "Then it can wait."

Harry scowled at him. "What I _need_ is someone with a brain."

"I have one."

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Yes if I want to manipulate someone I'll come and get lessons, but right now a knowledge in organic chemistry would be more beneficial."

He turned away and steered towards the castle, waving Barty away with an annoyed gesture in Rosier's direction.

Riddle, of course, followed him into Hogwarts.

"You need to talk about science _now_?" the lord asked sceptically as they made their way up the stairwell.

Harry tried to walk a bit faster, but Riddle had an unfair advantage with his longer legs and kept up easily.

He sighed when it became clear he wouldn't be able to just ignore him. "Look I'm not kidding, it _is_ important."

"Then tell me why," Riddle insisted, grabbing him by the elbow. "No more secrets. It was you who demanded that, child."

Harry's scowl deepened. "You've chosen a bloody awful time to become morally upright. And don't even try to pretend you're not already hiding a dozen new schemes as well."

Riddle tilted his head in contemplation, but didn't let go of him. His intense stare was as unnerving as ever.

Finally Riddle released him and straightened. "Alright, I've sent the head of the Baron back to the guild."

If they had been walking, Harry would have surely fallen over. "You _what_?!"

The lord shrugged unconcerned. "Well, I was hoping to discuss our war in my study and not on the stairwell."

" _Our_ _war_?!" Harry echoed speechless. "Shit Riddle, you don't even know what you're up against."

"You met their leader, surely that shows us exactly who we're fighting."

Harry laughed humourlessly. "Yeah he's currently tied to a chair, being gutted by some other psycho."

_And don't even get me started on the whole un-dead forever thingy._

Riddle, for once, didn't seem to have a smart comeback and simply blinked at him.

"Yes, my thoughts exactly," Harry said flatly.

He pushed past Riddle and continued to walk up the stairs.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck._

Literally the only thing that had still protected them from the guild was their assumption that both Voldemort and Harry were still ignorant.

Maybe they would assume the head was Voldemort's show of a job well done? But they would definitely be suspicious if he could have simply _told_ them.

Then again, if Grindelwald had been at least partially truthful then he had cut his ties with the guild some time ago. It was safe to assume Salazar had somehow taken over the guild completely in his quest for immortality. If that was the case then they would know anyways, since Salazar had realized it was Harry, yet still continued to talk about the guild's plans.

Ugh, he was so screwed. There was no way he could give Salazar what he wanted. Besides, he didn't _have_ what he wanted.

Yet.

Just because he would never agree with their principles did not mean he wasn't extremely curious. On a purely intellectual level of course.

Which was why he was heading to the hospital wing.

Riddle was still persistently following him. "We _do_ have a lot to talk about."

"I've never claimed otherwise," he replied, "I'm merely saying I have to do something first."

He entered the hospital wing.

To his disappointment Snape wasn't there yet. Maybe the man had gone to his quarters first?

The wall with the formula however, had been left untouched. The blood was completely dried, the red smear now a fainted brown streak.

How Snape had stopped himself from scrubbing it off was a mystery to him.

He didn't actually need it, as he remembered the formula vividly. But he had made a conscious effort not to recall it during his travels. It didn't bode well for him to focus on something too hard.

He scanned the wall with the repeated scribbles again. He had previously disregarded it as a crazy product of his unusual blackout.

Could it really be? But it was _wrong_ , violating at least three fundamental chemical laws.

_And immortality nullifies just about everything we know about life..._

His hands trembled. He folded them together to keep them from distracting him.

Then he froze and looked at them again. They kept trembling.

Oh no. No, no, no.

Couldn't he just once do this the normal way?

"Harry!"

He jumped in surprise and looked at Riddle, astonished. Or he tried to anyways. He found himself glancing between the wall and Riddle, no matter how hard he tried to focus on the man.

The lord was for some reason livid. "Will you _stop_ ignoring me, child."

"Hmm?" Harry made distracted. Riddle hadn't said anything before had he?

He had trouble breathing normally, almost hyperventilating. The trembling became worse.

He should probably lay down or something. That's what he should do…wasn't it? He wasn't sure, his thoughts were fuzzy.

Something grabbed him by the shoulders and forcibly turned him around. Riddle.

"If you die on me _again_ …" the man hissed furiously.

"Huh? Oh, no… This is normal… I think… Am I thinking? Why am I-… Err, you should probably leave."

"I most certainly will not."

"You won't huh?" Harry mumbled. "Uhm, that is-…that…I don't-…"

The world flipped.

.

* * *

.

Tom watched Harry crumble to the floor.

An icy feeling washed over him that smelled outrageously similar to fear.

If that boy _dared_ to die again-…

Harry jumped up suddenly, almost crashing into Tom who had been reaching down for him.

He seemed almost…chipper.

He was thrumming with energy, slightly rocking on his heels while his eyes stared unblinkingly at the wall.

Tom inexplicably hated it.

"Look at me," he growled.

Harry's head turned slightly towards the sound, but his eyes never left the wall.

"Look at me!" Tom grabbed the boy's chin and turned him fully towards him.

The green eyes were wide open, staring right through him into nothingness. A chill ran down Tom's spine despite himself.

Then Harry opened his mouth and _screamed_.

Tom released him immediately, stunned. The boy turned back to the wall and stopped screaming instantly.

They both remained still and silent after that. Tom was at a loss. The only thing he knew for certain was that nothing could snap Harry out of this state.

However Tom hadn't expected him to just stand there.

The boy had all but dismantled their train the last time. Would he do the same now, wreaking havoc in the castle? Or was every episode different? Would it be wiser to just lock Harry inside the hospital wing? Would the boy even notice?

Snape had the theory the boy should better be left alone during his episodes, that it could even be dangerous for him if someone disturbed him in this state. But Harry didn't seem to acknowledge his presence at all, as long as he didn't forcefully distract him.

He would have no other choice but to just observe. Minutes ticked by.

If Harry hadn't been standing, Tom might have thought him dead again. The boy wasn't moving a single muscle. Tom in return didn't dare move either.

He was still watching him, deep in thought, when Harry abruptly clapped his hands together.

"2374!"

"…What?"

Harry ignored him, suddenly abandoning his stillness and started looking around frantically.

Tom didn't know much about his blackouts, but he could guess what he was searching.

He snatched a pen and a stack of Snape's precious blank papers that lay on a table next to him and shoved them into Harry's hands. He didn't want the boy to cut himself again and use his blood for writing.

Harry didn't even look at him, but grabbed the stuff. He let the papers fall down to the ground, ignoring them completely and started scribbling on the mattress of the nearest bed.

Tom felt rather annoyed at that. Ungrateful little brat.

After another few minutes of hasty writing, Harry was sitting cross-legged on the bed, chewing on the pen viciously. His face was scrunched up in concentration.

He definitely looked more lively now, but other than the exchange of the pen nothing indicated that he took any notice of his surroundings. Tom wondered if Harry could interact at all.

"Oh!" Harry exclaimed, tilting his head. "You should try caffeine."

It took Tom a few seconds to realize the boy was talking to him, even though his eyes remained on his writings.

"What?"

"Caffeine," Harry repeated. "Would help with fatigue."

"I'm not tired," Tom bristled. "I don't need as much sleep as you."

"Pfff, liar," Harry chirped.

How dare that insolent child! No one accused Tom of lying. He was too good at it for people to notice.

His mask was perfect, he was a master of deceit. Some crazy boy knew nothing about him, no matter how intelligent he was.

"You're afraid to sleep," Harry added offhandedly.

Tom's world shattered, leaving him numb.

The boy, like always, appeared completely oblivious to the effects of his words.

"We should cuddle. It helps," he said happily.

"I don't cuddle," Tom pressed out coldly.

The child had the audacity to laugh, still not even facing him. "You're a _terrible_ liar."

It was in all honesty, one of the most disturbing experiences in Tom's life.

The boy was Harry, but not. Something was… _off_. His whole demeanour changed. And yet somehow he seemed more in sync with himself than ever before.

And much, _much_ more perceptive than anyone had any right to be.

The boy stopped chewing on the pen - it looked rather battered now - and wrote some more scribbles on the pillow.

The door to the hospital wing opened. Snape appeared in the doorway but froze when he saw them.

"No, NO!" Harry jumped up and skidded over to the door.

Tom watched amused as the boy tried to slam the door into the stoic looking man.

Snape pushed against the door, holding it open quite easily against Harry's force. The man didn't seem to know how to react.

Harry huffed annoyed and abandoned the door, grabbing an empty vase instead.

Tom was half convinced he would throw the vase at Snape, but the boy just cradled it in his arms and looked at the man.

Insolent child. He had never looked at _him_.

Harry's eyes were focused somewhere above Snape's head, expression serious. "He needs to fuck me because of the…the…because…"

Only Tom's quick reflexes saved him as the vase was suddenly being hurled at him. The glass shattered at the wall behind him.

"Physics!" Harry proclaimed.

Snape watched Harry warily as he climbed onto the bed again, ignoring them once again. "Is he..?"

Tom merely nodded.

"We should leave him alone."

"Your theory was wrong Severus, this is nothing like sleepwalking."

"Yes my lord, I can see that and he even manages to interact partially," Snape conceded, still watching Harry. "But the problem is the duration of the episode. The longer we're here to distract him, the longer it will take him to solve whatever he has focused on. These blackouts are dangerous enough as they are, interfering won't help him."

Tom looked at the boy who had went on to write on the blanket, still ignoring the paper. Tom noticed he was writing from right to left, formulating words backwards.

He seemed so full of energy, it was hard to believe a lack thereof was the root of the problem.

"Don't we have anything to sedate him?" he asked Snape.

The man took a moment to consider. "That should be enough to disrupt his thinking, technically. But I'm afraid of what would come afterwards. What if he simply wakes up and continues his episode? Or worse, what if his body is forced to sleep, but his brain remains hyperactive, feeding on his energy without a focus?"

"I told him I won't leave."

Tom didn't know why he had felt the need to say that. It sounded nauseatingly sentimental.

"I see…" Snape said tersely. "Then at the very least, you should refrain from interacting with him, my lord. I worry his body is already exhausted from the extensive travelling."

"It must have happened because he saw that wall again. He came up here to see you, Severus. If anything were to happen to him…"

The dark promise hung between the two men, while Harry remained completely oblivious to their conversation, humming softly to himself.

Snape wisely said nothing, giving Tom a short bow before backing out of the door.

Despite his bad mood Tom listened to the man and didn't interfere with anything Harry did.

Not when Harry started tearing the pillows apart.

Not when he mindlessly chewed on a paper.

Not when he babbled on and on about cellular regeneration during the dark night.

Not when he smashed the windows to let the morning sun in.

Not when he curled up in a corner and didn't move for hours.

Tom didn't react to anything.

Not until Harry finally collapsed from exhaustion, with a smile on his lips and tears in his eyes.

.

* * *

.

Harry felt like shit.

He had recognized this particular feeling of awfulness immediately after waking up.

And honestly, he had no reason to complain. As far as his episodes went, his waking had been far more pleasant than some of the others.

He had found himself in a nice clean bed in the hospital wing, not contorted on the floor of his dirty workshop like so many times before.

He hadn't even needed to get up to search for food. Riddle had all but forced it down his throat as soon as he woke up.

And Snape was bustling around in the hospital wing, giving him various foul smelling concoctions. Harry had some serious doubts they did anything except making him choke.

And yet he had rarely felt so bad after a blackout.

Usually his episodes were accompanied by a certain excitement of having solved a puzzle. Even if he had unwillingly focused on a problem, coming up with a solution had a somewhat pleasing quality to it.

Oh he'd solved something. And he felt like shit because of it.

Riddle had tried talking to him, but soon realized it wasn't much use as Harry preferred to lay impassively in bed.

The lord had been called to attend some other matters about half an hour ago. Snape remained behind, but the man was happy to ignore him.

Harry felt a spike of curiosity when Riddle had told him he had seen the whole episode. As far as he knew no one else had and Harry couldn't remember anything on his own. But the feeling was drowned by his gloom.

He wasn't really sad though. He wasn't sure what to feel at all. The hollowness didn't suit him.

The only one to have seen Flamel's research, Salazar had said. Holding the secrets to immortality in his head.

The chosen one. Boy who lived. Beacon of hope. Leader of rebels. First successful test subject. Keeper of eternal life.

Oh the irony.

"You knew, didn't you?" he asked Snape, speaking for the first time since he had woken up.

Snape didn't startle like most people would have. He gave Harry an unwavering look over the rim of the book he was reading.

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about, Mr Potter."

"I'm talking about me obviously," Harry said and smiled softly.

Harry had reacted so strangely after the blackout that Riddle surely knew something was up. Telling him about the fact that immortality existed seemed even more unavoidable than before.

Riddle might even succeed in pressuring him until he would be forced to tell him how.

But there was one thing Harry could never tell him.

"I'm dying aren't I?"

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this story is officially a rollercoaster. The range of emotions I went through while writing this chapter is not normal ^_^.
> 
> But hey, normalcy is overrated. As are neat little chapter endings bwahahaha!
> 
> Never your reviews though, can't hold them in a high enough regard, so do drop them :).  
> Byebye!


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'sup! Can't believe this story has made it to freakin 2016 ^_^.
> 
> Thank you so so much for all your reviews :3! 
> 
> Warnings  for this chapter: Lots of fake science. Like...loooots of it. Veeery fake. I tip my hat to every science-fiction author out there. That shit is a lot harder than it looks when you can't just scream 'magic' and run away.
> 
> If it doesn't make any sense (which it doesn't tbh) just...move on? xD Life's too short to get hung up on such things :P
> 
> Enjoy :)!

 

 

 

 

"Everyone is dying Mr Potter."

Snape hadn't even so much as blinked at Harry’s question. This somehow amused him greatly and he chuckled softly.

"Okay fine, you knew I was dying _faster_ ," he clarified.

"We could all be dead come tomorrow for all we know," Snape replied unfazed.

"You're giving us a whole day? Careful Snape, people might mistake you for an optimist."

Snape finally put his book away and stopped trying to ignore him. "Yes, I knew."

"Since when?"

"Suspected? Almost from our very first meeting on. Known for certain?" Snape glanced at the bloodied wall. "After you left that message."

"You studied it?" Harry asked surprised. "Well, you were faster than I was then."

"I'm not even close to understanding it. I can't even guess what kind of formula that is."

Some men might have had trouble admitting any kind of shortcomings regarding their intelligence, but Snape merely sounded clinical.

"Then how..?"

Snape sighed. "No matter how strange your blackouts are Potter, you had yet to produce anything that was wrong. I didn't have to understand it to see that it violates some of the most basic chemical laws. But the most fundamental physical and chemical laws were _invented_ by humans. Some of them never got proven. They are nothing but the best model to apply to our problems and predict what will happen. As long as they can predict flawlessly, there is no need to change them."

Harry snorted. "I suppose I am the case they couldn't predict."

"You suppose correctly. I couldn't figure out the logic behind them or the way they would fit, but if I assumed that it wasn't the formula that was wrong, but our current laws… Well, all I had to do was mindlessly copying the new laws and apply them to _our_ problem. More specifically the pills I've been working on."

"And your results made more sense this time?"

"My results stayed exactly the same. You should be practically brain dead and vegetating away."

Harry blinked at him. "Erm…I don't see how that helped in any way."

"I got the same results with two completely different sets of laws. Do you know what you have done Potter? You came up with entirely different laws, sometimes even total opposites, that still predict the same things. It should be impossible. The laws that are in place today are there because they are the _only_ ones that can fully describe what we observe, the only ones that make sense. If they weren't, they would have been disproven decades ago!"

Snape had stood up from his chair and started pacing the room. It was as close to 'agitated' as Harry had ever seen him.

"But you still got the same results…so what does it matter?"

"Well," Snape started, frowning in thought. "There are still a lot of phenomena that we can't explain. Seemingly insignificant things, that somehow defy the laws of nature. And things that we might never have gotten around to discover. I'd imagine your rules could predict them all."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh great, let's start doing serious science again! Wonderful! You know I'd be the first one to jump on the band wagon there but… It has still nothing to do with me does it?"

"If overthrowing every fundamental law of nature in one night counts as nothing to you…" Snape started but shook his head in resignation. "Anyways, after going back to studying the pills and drawing the same conclusions, at least I could be certain of their effect. Yet you are the living, breathing contradiction to that. I knew I was missing something and I still do. No Potter, this strange formula was merely one of many pieces I puzzled together."

Harry tilted his head curiously. "I always did get the feeling that you were observing me like a lab rat."

"You are a unique specimen," Snape agreed, not even bothering to refute his accusation. "Your episodes…your condition in general… You probably didn't notice because you were experiencing them first hand, the changes too slow to notice. But there were changes, even in the relatively short time since I've met you."

Harry hummed. "My memory…it's almost photographic now."

Snape nodded, never stopping in his pacing. "You sleep longer. You eat more. Probably because you require more energy just to keep up. You remember better. You think in more abstract ways, almost impossible to follow."

"I get smarter?" Harry snorted incredulously. "Huh, sure doesn't feel that way."

"I don't know what's causing it, I suspect whatever you figured out has something to do with that. But I can put two and two together. Your episodes were spikes so far. A hyperactive state of your brain, far away even from your usual baseline. My observations made me realize that your baseline is climbing. It is hard to tell how fast, I believe it isn't gradually but randomly, but at one point Potter, it will catch up to the spikes."

"The blackouts will be my normal state of mind," Harry finished tonelessly.

Snape looked at him intently. "And we know a prolonged episode will kill you, your body unable to give your brain the energy it needs. You are approaching a state where this scenario will be permanent. Your brain is slowly becoming as hyperactive and efficient as during your episodes, and it will require the same amount of energy."

"And it will kill me. Death by thinking…weirdly fitting I guess," he remarked drily.

"You won't be able to keep up at one point. From seeing your last blackout I also suspect you will lose the ability to focus your disordered thoughts."

They were silent for several minutes, Snape still pacing in front of Harry’s bed. Finally he let out another sigh and sat down again.

"So that's it Potter, all I've pieced together. I know _how_ , but I could never figure out _why_. It is not the pills that have caused this."

_Naw, the pills were there to kill me…They kind of wanted to make me immortal after that… But they ended up killing me this time weirdly enough… For a time…I kind of came back again… You know, like normal people would._

Even to him it sounded like a bunch of bullshit.

"The pills did work, in a way," he said instead. "The twins described me as apathetic, I was probably nothing more than a drooling idiot for the first few years of my life. I would have stayed that way, but when they caught the family they tested…something else on me as well."

He couldn't very well declare immortality to be real could he? Besides, Snape already had enough secrets to keep from Riddle. As long as Harry didn't know whether he'd tell Riddle, he didn't want to burden Snape with that one.

Harry nodded to the formula. "It's not mine. A man named Nicholas Flamel came up with it. That's why I've repeated it. I didn't invent it, I merely remembered it."

"He gave you…whatever this is? And it reversed the effect of the pills?" Snape asked.

"No, that's not what it was meant for. It's something else entirely. But it…interfered with the long-term result of the pills - and vice versa. The cross reactions are…"

Harry rubbed his eyes, the complicated reactions imprinted and swirling in his head, parts of it too complex for him to follow now.

"I don't think I should tell you what the intended effect of the formula was, for your own sanity really. Though maybe you already suspect."

Snape regarded him stiffly. "The blackout you had after the twins was…different."

Harry snorted. "You mean impossible."

Snape remained silent.

"What would you say was the cause of my…err, death?" Harry asked.

Snape looked like he wanted to ask what that had to do with anything, but after a while he complied.

"Your heart was the first thing that stopped working, from what I could tell. But you also had a severe headache before that, so I suspect the actual cause lies in your brain."

"And after the few hours where I uhm, stayed, dead… Do you think my body was still functional?" Harry pressed on.

"Apparently it was," Snape replied drily.

"C'mon, play along."

Snape's lips were pressed together in a displeased thin line, but he continued. "Well there would have been substantial necrosis in all of your organs from the missing blood supply, but… _maybe_ they could have still recovered, though I find it hard to believe. Everything, except your brain. Only a few minutes without oxygen results in irreversible damage."

"And if only the nutrients were missing, but not the oxygen?"

The look Snape threw him this time clearly showed the man's stance regarding Harry’s sanity.

"The damage would be considerably less severe… Once again, except your brain," he said slowly, then frowned. "Is there a point in this hypothetical scenario? Potter, you had neither nutrients nor oxygen."

"I don't need oxygen to live," Harry said, evading the other's eyes.

He had made that particularly disconcerting conclusion during his blackout. Saying it out loud was weirder still.

He was _not_ immortal. His organs and limbs would not regrow when removed like Grindelwald's. He _did_ age. What Flamel had given him should have made him the same as Grindelwald, but due to the pills there was interference and Harry had ended up with a peculiar incomplete set of immortality.

His metabolism could work without oxygen. That was…disturbing.

The sudden restart of his heart was most likely also a product of it. Grindelwald could survive _without_ his organs - a fact Salazar had been kind enough to demonstrate - and Harry doubted he could do the same, but remnants of the same power still lingered in his body.

Ironically enough he was also pretty sure the _cause_ of his 'death' had also stemmed from it. It was like a malfunctioning version of Grindelwald's condition. Thankfully it had also brought him back afterwards. As if it couldn't decide whether it should kill him or make him immortal.

From what little Grindelwald had told him, Harry suspected it wasn't the first time it had happened. A bit after Flamel's experiment he must have died convincingly enough to let the others think he was dead for good. Except his botched up immortality had kicked in later on and brought him back again.

"…What?"

Snape, bless the man, still hadn't even so much as flinched at Harry’s crazy proclamation. Though by now he looked so tense Harry was starting to worry about his muscles.

"You can ignore that statement, also for the sake of your sanity."

Snape pressed out a long breath, obviously not forgetting it but only ignoring it _for now_. "Then why are you dying?"

"What Flamel gave me should have affected my whole body. In some ways it did, but not like he predicted. Because the pills screwed up my brain, all the cross-reactions also happened there. You could say instead of distributing the effects equally they ended up being concentrated in my head only."

His own explanation sounded vague to him, but that was the best he could do without going into details of _what_ Flamel had done to him.

"You know about the hallmarks of cancer I assume?" he asked.

This time, Snape actually barked out a short laugh. "All your impossible conditions and you're telling me you have _cancer_ like a completely mundane person?"

Harry just shrugged sheepishly. Snape scrutinized him for a while but eventually decided to let it go.

"Very well. Uncontrolled proliferation, tissue invasion, angiogenesis, avoidance of apoptosis, DNA instability, replicative immortality, inflammation-…"

"Yes, yes," Harry waved him off. "But what is the _real_ problem with cancer? A healthy cell can have all of this as well. Why is cancer different?"

"Because much like the person in front of me, cancer cells are independent, won't listen to any signals and generally do stupid things that endanger the whole organism," Snape sneered.

Harry remained silent, knowing the man would eventually figure out the rest on his own. He was right.

Snape's frustrated sneer disappeared as his eyes widened slightly. "That's why… Your brain is endangering your life. It takes energy regardless of whether it is available. It just continues to work, refusing to shut down, ignoring all the warning signals that would usually put a stop to it."

Harry nodded. "It's like a brain tumour really. Except there isn't a lump of cells that is growing, but rather my whole brain as one unit going apeshit. It's not the pills that boosted my intelligence, it was the thing Flamel gave me. I think my brain cells are actually immortal now and they are becoming more and more efficient, but just like with cancer cells, that doesn't mean a good thing."

"A whole organ is becoming independent of your body. It is stopping to serve the organism and only looks after itself. And since it's the brain it is absolutely irreplaceable," Snape mused. "Your blackouts-…"

"Yeah let's not go there," Harry interrupted hastily.

He was ignored. "But the philosophical implications-…"

"Snape," he warned.

"…a brain state that does not reach your awareness-…"

"No seriously, don't go there."

"…your brain working, dare I say it, _normally_ , but independent of your personality, your very being-…"

"Please."

"It's like your consciousness is completely crumbling apart but your brain is still working on normally. Does that mean our consciousness is separate from our brain, which in your case would mean they stop their cooperation and go their different ways?

"Yes great, turns out we do have souls, amen to that. Can we stop thinking about it now?"

"Or does that in fact mean our consciousness _is_ generated by our brains and yours just doesn't fulfil that function anymore in its hyperactive state? But that would mean our own consciousness is _blocking_ the full potential of our brains."

"Snape!" he cried frustrated. "I'm _literally_ dying here!"

Snape coughed and crossed his arms in front of his chest to compose himself. "My apologies, your case is offering insights into a question that dates back millennia."

Harry just huffed softly, knowing he'd probably reacted the exact same way if it wasn't him who was suffering the disturbing symptoms.

"How long do you think I have?"

Snape tilted his head in contemplation, taking his time before answering. "Your condition is unprecedented, to say the least. Even before we had this…strange…new information. Your episodes always posed a danger to you. Even if your condition would remain stable, I doubt you would last long, at one point they would have killed you. Considering you are approaching the state of a permanent blackout… Well, there is really no telling how fast it will happen. I believe it has accelerated since your blackout in which you left this formula, but it is hard to say."

"I guess we'll find out soon enough," Harry shrugged.

"I have tried to find a cure, if you may call it that, but of course all my research was focused on the effects of the pills alone," Snap continued. "Since you show neither the predicted effects for the pills, _nor_ for this formula, but something that resulted from the combined effects… Just because I was able to apply these strange laws doesn't mean I understand them. You are obviously reluctant to share all information about this formula and even if you would, I doubt I would be able to understand, let alone how it interacts with the effects of the pills."

Snape had tensed up again, his whole posture rigid as he stared at him intensely, though his voice turned surprisingly soft. "Potter, I don't think I can help you."

He smiled quietly at that. "I didn't expect you to. Don't you think if there was a cure I wouldn't already know it by now?"

"I'm sorry."

Now Harry was truly shocked. " _Why_? It's not like I'll die tomorrow… Actually my episodes could very likely kill me before it even progresses that far."

"It might not mean much to a lost-generation like you but…I am your godfather. In a way that makes us…family," Snape spat out the last word like it was cutting his tongue, but his tone was still sincere.

"I always did like you best," Harry grinned. He couldn't help but tease the stiff man.

Snape scowled and Harry only grinned wider.

"You could have told me you know," he said, pouting a bit. "It never even occurred to me I could be approaching a state of a permanent blackout."

"I tried to find out what was causing it. And you seemed to have a lot on your mind already. And, well…" he trailed off.

"It's not like knowing changes anything, since I can't do anything about it," Harry finished resigned. He sighed. "Thank you, for not telling Riddle."

Snape regarded him with slight curiosity. "Will you tell him?"

Harry let out a sardonic chuckle, trying to imagine the lord's reaction. "I can't. He wouldn't…accept it."

He pushed back the blanket and made to get up. Snape looked like he wanted to protest, but one careful eyeroll in his direction held him back.

He stood up and waited a moment for a dizzy spell or something alike, but he felt completely fine so he walked to the door.

"You should really get rid of that," he said, turning back to Snape and pointing to the wall with the formula. "I know you will just keep trying to figure it out. Believe me, you can't."

Snape sneered at him. "Your insolence is as appalling as ever Potter."

"It's called honesty. A foreign concept for most in this castle, I know."

Snape's eyebrows rose. "Says the one hiding the most secrets."

Harry glanced down at the floor sheepishly. "Point taken."

He slipped out of the hospital wing, closing the door behind him with a heavy sigh.

He had a shit ton to do.

Riddle was his biggest problem. Or, well, the most pressing one. The lord would inevitably know Harry had found out _something_ important, otherwise he wouldn't have had a blackout.

But there was also Ron Weasley, appearing out of nowhere, who had apparently searched for him for some reason. He needed to find a way to contact the twins, they'd definitely want to know about him.

He also felt like he should talk to Aberforth and Moody. Had the resistance known about Grindelwald's situation? Who _was_ leading the guild right now? They had so many different objectives in different layers of their hierarchy that Harry got a headache just thinking about it.

But was the resistance doing anything specific? Or were they simply the keepers of the truth? Harry had wanted nothing to do with them, but he began to see that wouldn't be possible for much longer. This whole mess was about to swallow him whole.

And what about Nicholas Flamel? Who was that guy, how the hell did he invent immortality and _die_? What, was he just there for the fun of it?

And how on earth should he proceed with Salazar? Let alone the fact that apparently Riddle had started a war.

He groaned and rubbed his temples. Where to begin? His stomach answered with a rather loud rumble.

Food. Right. Food sounded good. It should be lunchtime anyways.

When he entered the great hall, the rest of the group was already eating. Apparently Voldemort had gracefully ignored Harry’s and Snape's absence, which was unusually thoughtful from him. Normally the lord was adamant about his being-present rule.

Harry got curious looks from his fellow group members, but by now he was almost used to it. He had missed several meals, arrived late now, openly disagreed with their lord, got sent on solo missions and…well…there was the thing with the kissing.

By now the rumours must have taken on epic proportions.

He glanced to Rosier's usual seat and saw him surrounded by others who eagerly hung on his lips. Harry trusted him enough to not reveal anything crucial, but he had the sinking suspicion that the man might just make up stuff for the fun of it.

Barty sat next to him, calmly eating from his plate, ignoring everything around him. Harry took extra care not to be seen by him as he approached the head table and flopped down next to Riddle.

"Out of bed already?" Riddle sounded slightly amused, though it was overshadowed by his accusatory tone.

"And hungry," Harry added and grabbed the next best edible thing in his reach.

" _And_ he's talking again," Riddle exclaimed in theatrical awe. "You honour me beyond words _Harry_."

There it was again. Harry had forgotten how his name sounded coming from the lord's lips. He might have stared at them for a little too long before hastily directing his attention back to his meal.

Riddle in turn seemed to have abandoned his meal in favour of watching him. Harry stubbornly ignored him.

"Well, at least you didn't die this time," Riddle remarked drily after a while.

Harry sputtered into his water at the formulation. _Not this time no…_

He coughed discreetly. "So ahm…You were there the _entire_ time?"

"Quite the experience, yes."

"And? What did I do?" Harry asked eagerly.

"You tried to eat the pillows."

Harry chanced a glance at him. "Uhm…"

"I would have stopped you, but it seemed best not to interfere too much. You ignored me most of the time, but you absolutely hated it if I pulled you away from whatever you were doing."

"Are you sure you're describing an episode and not just my normal behaviour?" Harry laughed at Riddle's displeased face. "Wait, so I _was_ interacting? Did I talk?"

Riddle's facial muscles tensed ever so slightly. "I wouldn't call it interacting. You were muttering to yourself mostly."

"Mostly? But I _did_ talk to you? What did I say?" Harry pressed on.

Riddle's jaw clenched shortly before he sipped on his goblet in dismissal. "Inconsequential things… Untruths… Utter nonsense."

Harry squinted at him, observing his relaxed posture that was ever so carefully arranged.

"You're lying," he observed, mildly surprised that he could see the signs so well.

In a flurry of motions with unmatched speed, Riddle grabbed his knife and jammed it into the table between Harry’s fingers. The lord's goblet clattered unnoticed to the ground between their seats.

"I am _not_ ," Riddle hissed, leaning uncomfortably close to his face.

Harry was shocked speechless for a second. "O-okay, okay! Jeez, calm down. What's wrong with you?"

Riddle's intense glare burned into his skull, momentarily erasing all other thoughts as his whole world became two red orbs.

He had forgotten about all that anger that swirled underneath Riddle's composure. That lethal force which threatened to overpower everything in its way. That twisted passion, barely restrained in his lean body.

For some reason his mind decided this to be a good moment to bring back memories from when Riddle had held him down with a similar passion. Harry felt lightheaded as a big portion of his blood suddenly rushed south.

Riddle's eyebrows rose mockingly. "You certainly interpret stabbing notions in an interesting way."

"It's not like that," Harry glowered.

Riddle leaned in even closer, twisting the knife slightly so it actually touched Harry’s hand. His heartbeat sped up even more.

"Well it shouldn't come as a surprise," Riddle whispered. "You all but confessed to have an adrenaline addiction when you joined me."

Harry fumed, but kept his hand carefully still so as to not cut himself on the knife. "I'm not addicted to adrenaline."

_Just to you._

He gasped in shock at the thought. Where the fuck had that come from?

Riddle just smirked as if he knew exactly what Harry was thinking, but thankfully relaxed back into his own seat, pulling the knife out of the wood.

Harry let out a silent breath of relief before glaring at the lord. "And don't think you can just change the subject so… _cleverly_."

Red eyes narrowed at his derisive tone.

Harry ignored him in favour of inspecting his hand. Not even a small scratch. The same couldn't be said for the old wooden surface of the table. Thank gods Riddle's aim was so precise, or Harry would have one or two fingers less now.

"Finish your meal child, we have a lot to discuss in private," the lord finally said.

Harry snorted. "I'm not the one interrupting people's meals with a fucking knife."

Riddle tilted his head. "Look, I can already see you scheming what you _don't_ want to tell me."

The piece of bread in Harry’s mouth suddenly tasted very dry.

"Your problem is, _Harry_ , that your face is an open book."

"And yours isn't as closed as you'd like it to be, _Tom_ ," Harry snapped back.

Harry could practically feel the anger rising inside of Riddle, pulsating off his skin in waves that made his hairs stand up in alarm.

"There is some knowledge even you are better off not knowing," he continued hollowly.

"Knowledge is power," Riddle countered darkly, apparently finding that statement sufficient to refute his argument.

"And power can destroy your enemies, but _also_ yourself," Harry warned.

"Then what about yourself?" Riddle asked sceptically. "Won't it destroy you?"

The formula and all its reactions flashed once again across Harry’s eyes. And with it the realization that he had no idea how much time he still had. The fact that he will after all actually leave Riddle behind somehow pained him. How very fleeting their meeting had been, in the vast scheme of things.

Something must have shown on his face because Riddle suddenly seemed alarmed.

"What?" he asked suspiciously. "What was that look, Harry?"

"Nothing," Harry murmured, suddenly not feeling hungry anymore. "I'm done, let's go."

He stood up and started walking away briskly. Riddle grabbed his elbow, slowing him down to his own measured pace.

"It is true that your face is an open book, yet somehow I also can't figure you out at all. Sometimes there is a mixture of emotions on your face that simply do not belong together and certainly don't fit the situation."

"I'm not the one throwing knives around for no particular reason."

"No, you're the one walking away whenever you don't want to answer a question. Is it because you're an exceptionally bad liar?"

"Maybe it's because you're so goddamn nosy."

They had almost reached the doors on the other side of the hall. Harry could feel the covert stares of the other members following their every move.

He reached for the doors to pull them open, but Riddle once again hindered him by grabbing his arm. The casual gesture pissed him off and he yanked his arm away.

"Stop _touching_ me in front of everybody!" he hissed.

"You didn't seem to mind yesterday."

Harry remembered kissing him out of nowhere surrounded by everyone and he blushed viciously.

Riddle's smirk was there instantly. "Or is it that somehow you alone have the permission to touch me whenever it pleases you?"

"Err, no, that- that's not-…" he stuttered.

Riddle stepped closer, crowding him against the doors. "And what exactly gave _you_ the right to claim _my_ body?"

While he tried to look anywhere but into Riddle's eyes, Harry saw that by now the others in the hall had given up any pretence and watched them openly.

"Riddle…Not- not _here_."

"Not here what? We're just standing around," the lord said innocently.

Riddle snuck a hand around his neck, letting it move upwards to grab at the hair.

He tried to glare at him, but suspected it came out rather weakly. "You know fucking well what I mean."

"Hmm, no, no I don't think so. Unless you want to do something _more_ that is."

The hand in his hair tugged more insistently and Harry had to close his eyes for a moment because, shit that felt entirely too good.

"Well? Is there something you'd like to do that we can't do here?" the lord teased.

"I'm really, really angry at you right now," Harry said, more to remind himself.

Riddle chuckled. "That would be a bit more convincing if you weren't shivering in pleasure at the mere idea of what I could do to you."

"Maybe it's disgust," he countered and took a deep breath before opening his eyes to look directly into Riddle's eyes. "Or maybe I'm doing it because I know exactly how much you like it."

He could see Riddle's eyes widen the moment he registered his words, but by then Harry was already moving.

He used one of Bella's most efficient tricks to destabilize someone. One foot behind Riddle's ankles and a good shove at his shoulder sent the lord tripping backwards.

He didn't fall on his smug arse sadly, but it did knock him completely off balance. Both physically _and_ mentally Harry suspected, a thought that rather satisfied him.

As Harry slipped out of the hall he waved at Bella and she gave him a discreet thumbs up, ignoring the horrified look Lucius sent her.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe I really find myself liking Bellatrix lol xD. And where's Draco? I wanted to write him *pouts*. Ah well...next chapter...maybe.  
> I didn't know Snape could be so talkative. These two literally wouldn't shut up, it was exhausting. And omg Harry are you learning to read Tom? Voldie better watch out.
> 
> Note on Harry's condition  in case all that cancer talk has confused you: Harry's brain is not growing in size or anything. Rather the single cells are super efficient and have an increasing metabolism, which is why they require so much energy just to keep going. They are also basically indestructible/immortal/resistant against anything and do their own thing regardless of the rest of the organism. That's why I compared it to cancer (which is both immortal and has a higher metabolism than normal cells), not because he has a tumour that will metastasize or something.
> 
> So yeah, if all this crappy fake science is giving you a headache: Harry's brain is approaching a state in which it will work exactly like during his episodes and that will be permanent. His occasional 'deaths' are like a short time overload, but otherwise not really worrisome because he can come back from them, like Grindelwald. This however won't help him when his brain is going overdrive permanently.
> 
> Also Harry has a rather 'relaxed' stance towards death because he grew up in a world where it's normal not to get old. Whereas our society likes to plan years or whole decades ahead, he has lived his whole life day by day. That's why the realization that his condition is in fact killing him doesn't affect him too harshly. It does put his time into perspective though, which is why he has some instances where it does hit him.
> 
>  
> 
> **I shall stop spewing nonsense now, cya :D!**


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Earning that 'mature' rating again. The more explicit parts aren't specifically labeled, because it is interspersed with the rest and I didn't want to disrupt the flow too much. If someone tells me to mark certain passages I'll do it. If you are very sensitive to this stuff you might consider skipping this chapter altogether. You will not miss any plot revelations, but some character development. Though I'd imagine you'll catch up to that easily in later chapters.
> 
> Thank you so much for your reviews :3!
> 
> I don't know what this is but I hope you'll get something akin to enjoyment out of it.

 

 

 

 

Thanks to his little trick, Harry was the first to arrive in Riddle's study.

He stopped short by the door though, because Riddle's pet snake was slumbering before the fireplace. Riddle insisted she wasn't dangerous to him now, but Harry didn't trust the beast if no one else was around.

Nagini seemed to sense his presence and her head lifted a bit to stare at him, almost expectantly.

"I don't like you," Harry grumbled.

She hissed at him in response.

The door opened behind him and Riddle entered.

Harry momentarily forgot about the lord's explosive temper from before. "Make _her_ stay away from me, I'm ser-…"

He didn't get further as Riddle grabbed him and pushed him against the wall, one arm fiercely set against his shoulders and his other hand holding his head in place. The kiss was rough and primal, but only lasted for a short moment.

"Wha- Why?" Harry breathed out, trying to wrap his head around Riddle's mood swings this evening.

"I haven't seen you for weeks and the first thing you do is ignoring me for 2 days-"

"That was hardly my fault!" Harry protested. He'd had a blackout for fuck's sake.

"The second thing you do is knocking me down-"

"You didn't even _fall_ -"

"And who said I need a reason?" Riddle growled and leaned in again.

Harry allowed it for a while because…well, no reason really. Letting Riddle claim his lips brought a certain thrill with it. The man always managed to trigger a rush in Harry, but having him so close was intoxicating. His own inexperience was still starkly obvious, but Harry took a twisted enjoyment in the fact that Riddle barely seemed to be able to restrain himself.

He pulled away after a while, twisting his head to the side, trying to catch his breath. This position sadly offered his ear to Riddle and of course the bastard remembered exactly how sensitive it was.

"Riddle…" Harry said warningly, lips tingling from the sensation of the other's mouth on his. When nothing happened he narrowed his eyes. " _Tom_."

The lord growled darkly, his breath ghosting across Harry's ear. "You're the only one who dares call me by that name."

" _You_ gave me that name," Harry reminded him, thinking back to their first encounter at the inn. "Why?"

He had wondered about that for a long time. Snape was the only other person who knew Voldemort's real name, and he was careful never to mention it to him. So why had Riddle introduced himself with his real name to Harry after all these years? Especially if he saw it as a connection to his weaker past.

Riddle let go of him, apparently giving the question more contemplation than Harry would have expected.

"I don't know," he answered simply.

"You _don't know_? You know everything!" Harry exclaimed confused. Riddle gave him an amused look and Harry hurried to continue. "Apart from the many things you do not know of course, but you'd never _admit_ that."

Riddle only shrugged nonchalantly. "Because that's the name I had when we first met I suppose, even if you don't remember it."

He went over to the table to pour himself a drink.

Harry remained standing by the wall, watching him, observing his movements, his posture.

"You're lying," he said again.

Riddle's glass shattered in his grip.

"And you seriously should have that checked out," Harry commented drily, despite the thunderous look the lord sent him.

"Why is it," Riddle hissed menacingly, "That I want to kiss and fuck you senseless against every flat surface I see and at the same time kill you and be done with your insolence?"

Harry very much felt like running away because Riddle looked ready to spring at him, but he stood his ground and tried to appear relaxed.

"I don't know, both options sound equally terrifying so... You could just learn to control your anger."

Riddle carelessly shook out his hand to get rid of the shards and fluid. "I am in perfect control."

Harry crossed his arms in front of him and snorted. "Liar."

This time Riddle _did_ whirl around at that and crowded him again, eyes flashing. "Because Tom Marvolo Riddle is my name. I tried to erase it, no, I _succeeded_ until you dragged it back like a half-dead kicked puppy. He clawed back up when he should have stayed buried. As if I wanted to revive him, become him once more."

Harry just stared back at him, dumbstruck.

Riddle seemed to gain some of his composure back and narrowed his eyes at his own words. "Which I do _not_."

Harry cleared his throat nonchalantly. "Shame, I really kinda like the guy called Tom."

It was Riddle's turn to stare at him speechlessly, his eyes burning holes in his skull as Harry tried to evade his gaze.

"Took care of me I heard. Well, until he tried to kill me of course, but that's normal right, we'll let it slip," he continued. "A bit weird the guy, has a funny humour though."

"Oh?" Riddle made wryly.

Harry nodded. "Intelligent too. Total megalomaniac of course. Scheming, deceiving, massive ego - you know the type."

"Sounds indestructible."

Harry shook his head. "Yeah he's got the strangest insecurities though, you wouldn't believe it."

"Weak," Riddle spat.

Harry smiled and reached up with one hand. It was barely a touch, just the faintest brush of his fingertips along Riddle's cheekbone. " _Human_."

Riddle froze in front of him, his head tilted a bit, puzzled.

"Tell me more about him," he demanded softly.

Harry chuckled and dropped his hand. "Well the rest of the time he's an asshole really."

Riddle rose an eyebrow in mock indignation and Harry grinned. "Real charming sometimes, totally smooth. Saw him catch an arrow with bare hands once and I'm half convinced he can speak to snakes."

It was more of a question, formulated like a statement.

"No comment."

Harry laughed softly. "Bastard."

Riddle pushed himself off the wall, stepping back over the glass splinters and simply grabbed a new glass.

"You must have spoken with Snape about my name," he said after a while, eying him.

Harry saw no point in denying that. "I did."

"Yet you insist on dragging it up again, cruel child."

"I regret not remembering that time," Harry said wistfully. "What were you like back then I wonder?"

"Why would you debase me so?"

Really, who thought about his own past like that? It certainly wasn't normal and surely not entirely healthy.

"I'm sure I would treasure every memory," he said quietly, then grimaced at sounding so sappy. "And use it for blackmail of course," he added.

"Of course," Riddle echoed.

He seemed to stare at Harry for a long time, obviously deep in thought but what he was thinking about was anyone's guess. From time to time he sipped at his drink.

Harry remained unmoving at his initial spot, marvelling at the fact that they really had a lot of other things to discuss for the future, yet somehow focused on the past.

"I am not weak for being human, is that what you intend to show me?" Riddle asked, breaking the silence.

Harry snorted. "Of course you are."

Riddle practically choked on his drink. The glare he sent Harry made him shiver.

"And incredibly stupid really," he continued on, unfazed. "I mean it's a _name_. What, you thought you could shove all your weaknesses on it and discard it like old clothes? Really, how stupid. And that's scary coming from me 'cause I have a lot of stupid ideas."

Riddle sat down in one of the armchairs and if Harry hadn't known better he'd said he was sulking.

"Sometimes a weakness isn't all bad, you know," he said.

Riddle inclined his head slightly, but obviously wasn't convinced.

"So…" Harry began, "You want to talk about why the word 'lie' is enough to make you flip?"

Riddle turned back to his drink. "No."

Harry scoffed, unsurprised. "And it has nooothing to do with my blackout?"

"No," Riddle answered curtly.

"What are you so afraid of?" he frowned.

Riddle certainly hadn't been so sensible about being called out before his episode. So he was once again quite obviously lying.

What had he said during that time? What had alarmed Riddle so much? There was something tugging at his memories, as if he should know the answer but it was stuck inside his head.

Riddle took another sip of his drink.

… _you should try caffeine…_

Harry's eyes widened. When had he talked with him about the effects of caffeine? He was certain now that he had said that. But why, when, in what context? Why could he not remember-

_Liar._

_You're afraid to fall asleep._

The shock physically knocked the air out of his lungs.

His blackout. He remembered. Partially only, but he _remembered._

It was happening. He was getting closer to that state. The lines between his blackouts and his normalcy have started to blur.

"There it is again," Riddle said displeased, but otherwise apparently oblivious to Harry's inner horror. "What _is_ that look?"

Riddle… Idiotic smug bastard.

Harry had tried so hard to hate him. By all logic he should have. But he had been unable to leave him alone since the beginning.

The monster that had offered his human name to him and him alone.

"Harry?" Riddle had grown alarmed now.

Harry felt like choking.

_Go away, hold me, stay, leave._

"Kiss me?" he whispered, asked, offered.

Red eyes widened before narrowing in suspicion. But he set his drink aside and crooked a finger at Harry.

"Come here, child."

To both of their surprises, Harry actually did go to him, pushing himself away from the wall and stopping in front of Riddle's armchair.

Riddle grabbed the hem of his shirt to bend him down. His movements were slow for once, as if trying not to startle him.

"So obedient. And without a snappish comeback either. What is going on behind that thick skull of yours?"

Harry did not allow himself to reply.

Could not. Would not. Never.

He let himself be pulled down, but instead of just bending he stepped forward and crawled onto the chair as well. The old armchair was big, but still not wide enough for both of them, so Harry ended up partially on the lord's lap, especially because Riddle still held on to his shirt.

Riddle seemed surprised, but quickly caught on to their new position and put his other hand on Harry's hip to press them together more firmly. Harry could feel his heart speeding up in that surge of nervous excitement Riddle always managed to instil in him.

Riddle brought their faces close together and Harry didn't dare to breathe. "Are you hoping to distract me, Harry?"

"Is it working?"

Feeling bold, he rolled his hips once.

Riddle's eyes hooded in pleasure. "I dare say it is very efficient."

There wasn't much distance left to close for their lips to find each other. Riddle's hand moved from his collar to the back of his head, keeping him there firmly. Harry could feel his tension melt away.

He wasn't trying to distract Riddle. He was trying to distract himself. And it was working wonderfully.

Riddle chuckled and Harry pulled back a bit, scowling. "What?"

Riddle's smirk, so far absent during this evening, had come back in full force. "Will you recite old statistics again?"

Harry could feel his ears turn red, the heat spreading quickly over his cheeks and to his neck.

He _had_ been quite terrified last time.

He had often found himself in unexpected situations, but when it came to Riddle his nervousness always amplified. The fact that Riddle had been so sure and in control like always had only heightened his awareness of his own ignorance and insecurities.

Not entirely unpleasant, but overwhelming.

"Shut up," he growled.

"I found it quite endearing," Riddle smirked.

Harry leaned forwards and placed his hands on Riddle's shoulders. They somehow ended up more near the throat though, and he could feel the pulse thumping under his hands.

"Think you can make me scream this time?" he whispered sweetly.

A tiny shudder rippled over Riddle's body. Something akin to a flinch, a little jerk of his hips.

Harry grinned wickedly. _This_. He wanted more of this. Riddle losing control if only for the smallest of spasms.

Riddle eyed his grin warily. "Enjoying yourself, child?"

"Isn't that the point?"

Riddle chuckled. "Quite so."

The hand that had been holding his hip creeped forward to his fly.

Harry frowned. "Yeah no, I'm not doing that again. Do you have any idea how long it took me to walk normally again?"

Riddle huffed amused. "There _are_ other ways."

Harry cocked his head and stared down at him with raised eyebrows. "I could fuck you?"

"Your imagination of the impossible knows no bounds I see," Riddle snorted deadpan.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Well then I don't- oh."

Riddle had started massaging him through the fabric. Just a small pressure with the heel of his hand, a slow circling motion that might have been soothing on any other region.

"Riddle..." he made warningly, trying to keep his focus.

He didn't want to hand over all control again. Even knowing his own inexperience, he still strived to remain active.

He brought one of his own hands down, to return the administration or do anything at all really, but Riddle pulled his head forward and kissed him.

The motion of his hand stayed slow, deliciously steady, but the kiss was rough and demanding. It quickened his pulse like nothing else and he felt himself giving in, opening his mouth to Riddle's persistent tongue and spreading his legs a bit wider, giving him more room for his hand.

The trousers became almost painfully constrictive, the coarse fabric only increasing the friction.

He attempted to break away from the kiss after a while, but it took him several tries to succeed.

"Not fair," he said, panting for breath.

"One would assume the party who is receiving pleasure got the better end of it," Riddle chuckled, his voice deeper than usual, husky with sensuality.

Harry glared weakly at him. "Then _why_ are you stopping me?"

"Sometimes assumptions are wrong."

"What the actual fu-…"

Riddle's kiss shut him up quite effectively.

"Later, child," he murmured after breaking away. "Let me have this."

"Have what?" Harry said, voice hitching despite his effort to keep it steady. "You don't allow me to _give_ anything."

"You have no idea _Harry_ ," Riddle whispered, earnest and at the same time faintly amused. "If you could see yourself, you'd know you're exquisite like this."

Riddle pulled him forward, their faces almost touching. He stopped just a moment in his rubbing between Harry's legs and squeezed, not enough to hurt, but the overstimulation made Harry cry out.

Riddle growled hoarsely. "I want your pleasure."

"I don't under-…" he had to bite his lips because Riddle renewed that damned circling motion. "How?"

The hand on the back of his head disentangled form his hair and came down to his shoulder, pushing him slowly backwards, more upright. Harry warily let it happen, knowing Riddle admitting to want anything was as good as him saying please and thus infinitely rare.

The distance seemed weird to Harry, counterintuitive to their other actions. Riddle never stopped in his administrations and Harry knew he wouldn't last much longer.

Sitting upright at arm's length from Riddle took away the physical contact and yet increased the intimacy of the moment.

He felt exposed, on display and naked despite being fully clothed.

His already flustered face heated up even more, while Riddle's eyes seemed to drink in everything.

The lord practically brimmed with satisfaction. "Spread a bit wider."

Harry bit his lip again to keep a whimper at bay and shook his head.

" _Harry_ …" Riddle coaxed.

Looking anywhere but at Riddle, Harry slowly spread his knees further.

"There you go," Riddle purred gently.

He chanced a glance at Riddle's face. He was smirking, but not the usual taunting grin, rather a genuinely pleased curve of his lips.

His hand continued with the circling motion, applying steady pressure and motion. His rhythm didn't falter once, bringing Harry closer with a maddening slow pace.

The front of his trousers must have become damp by now.

And Harry realized he would come like this, fully clothed and just sitting back, while Riddle stared unblinkingly at him, as Harry would give in to pleasure, every intimate detail of his orgasm in full view.

A strange mixture of embarrassment and thrill washed over him and his lips parted as he relaxed. A soft breath escaped him, soundlessly but undoubtedly noticed by Riddle.

Harry wished he would at least speed up or press harder, do _something_ other than this perfectly steady motion. It was maddening, because there was no change to actually set him off, just his own shift in mind to let go.

"If you deny me all your sounds," Riddle whispered as Harry's body went taut. "At least look at me."

Harry fought to keep his eyes open as pleasure washed over him, but in the end he couldn't tell if he succeeded. He slumped over when Riddle finally let go of his shoulder, his breath coming out in harsh pants, his whole body burning.

Riddle pressed his lips on Harry's sweaty forehead while he lay lax on top of him. It seemed almost childlike, but Harry tried to commit this moment perfectly to his memory, completely still and peaceful.

He took a deep breath to calm his racing heart, willing his body to stop twitching.

"It's still unfair," he muttered.

He could feel Riddle chuckling underneath him, strong muscles tensing and relaxing in his belly.

"For whom?"

Harry pushed himself back up into a sitting position, his body feeling heavier than expected. "Both I guess."

He let his hand wander lower again, towards the obvious bulge in Riddle's trousers, but he stopped short just before it, unsure.

He looked back up at Riddle, waiting for some kind of permission, instruction, or anything really. Without his mind being clouded by lust and pleasure, it automatically started to worry and overthink.

"You don't have to."

It sounded weird, coming from him. Then again it was so honest. And Harry wondered if despite all his roughness Riddle's focus had always been Harry's pleasure and not his own.

He was the type to take satisfaction in other's vulnerable moments. And Harry had rarely felt as vulnerable as when he handed himself over to Riddle.

"I can do hands," Harry scoffed, trying to sound confident. "Not anything special, but it's not hard…right?"

The insecure tilt at the end of his statement made Riddle laugh. Not the soft chuckling, short exhale of amusement, but that sweet genuine laugh. The one Harry had heard so very rarely and the other's claimed never happened.

It made him seem so much younger all of a sudden, this simple sound of unguarded joy. Something warm ignited in Harry's chest.

Riddle took Harry's hand in his and guided it down, opening the zipper himself.

Harry tentatively wrapped his finger around his manhood, already hot and hard. Riddle pressed his fingers more firmly against his, indicating for him to tighten his grip.

Then the hand left and Riddle grabbed both of his cheeks instead, bringing him down for a shallow kiss.

"Just keep still."

He started moving his hips, rhythmically pushing up into Harry's hand, never breaking eye contact.

Harry found himself completely mesmerized. There was a faint flush darkening Riddle's cheeks, his lips pressed together slightly with the exertion, his whole body becoming alive underneath Harry.

He was silent, apart from the increasingly laboured breathing. His hips moving in the same precise, steady motion that he had showed with is hands before.

Harry kept watching him, absolutely fascinated by the way his jaw tightened or his eyes strained, his brows furrowed as if in concentration.

Minimalistic changes on anyone else's face, but to see it on Riddle was riveting.

It didn't take long for his breath to become uneven, his movements more urgent. Harry found himself being pulled forward once again, Riddle brought them together for a bruising kiss, just as Harry felt the body beneath him spasm and wet trails coated his hand. A few more jerky thrusts and Riddle stilled, exhaling deeply as he let go of Harry's head.

Red eyes looked up at him and Harry was jolted out of his observation, hurriedly looking away.

Riddle laughed softly at his actions. "As this is the day of perceptive character studies, I think I'm beginning to have my own thesis about you."

"Oh?" Harry mumbled, still not looking at him directly. "What is it then?"

Riddle brushed a few sweaty strands from Harry's face. "A bath first, I should think."

Harry laughed helplessly. "I forgot you actually _live_ down here. Isn't it unpractical so far off?"

"I'm prepared at all times."

Harry didn't doubt Riddle was just that.

He rolled sluggishly to the side to let Riddle stand up.

"Join me?" the lord asked, but without pressure behind it.

"Unless you're hiding a pool down here it's going to be way too small and uncomfortable."

Riddle shrugged and turned away.

Harry curled up in the cosy armchair and let his eyes drift shut. He felt sleepy. There was still a slightly disgusting sticky mess around his legs, but this time there wasn't even a small sting, just a pleasant tiredness.

He dozed off to the sound of Riddle tinkering with buckets and water, probably heating them up to fill the tub.

A bit later, splashing noises snapped him partially out of his drowsy state.

He looked up in time to see Riddle coming out of the metal bathtub, which he had dragged to the centre of the study, closer to the fireplace.

He was, obviously, naked and Harry berated himself for feeling surprised. It wasn't even like he hadn't seen him without clothes before. But Harry realized now he had never actually _looked._

As if feeling his attention Riddle turned his head to look back at him. Harry startled and quickly averted his eyes, feeling his face flush and hating himself for it.

"I think I told you before I don't mind," Riddle said amused.

Harry mumbled something incomprehensible and curled up more firmly.

He could hear Riddle chuckling. "My theory is getting stronger."

Harry was determined not to raise to the bait and ignored him. Until a hand shook his shoulder that is.

"Get in while it's still hot, child."

"Stop calling me that. And I can make my own damn bath."

"It's more convenient if it's right there, is it not?"

Well, he wasn't exactly wrong.

Harry grumbled some more but forced himself to stand up and walk over to the tub. He yawned, still feeling sleepy, and shrugged out of his shirt. Then his eyes went wide and he whirled around.

Riddle was watching him.

_Of course_ he was watching.

He had sat back down into the very same chair and had gone back to nursing his drink. Upon noticing Harry's indignant glare he only raised an eyebrow.

Harry huffed exasperated, knowing there was no way he'd convince the other to give him some privacy. It wasn't like Riddle hadn't seen him naked before, just like Harry him. But that had been in the heat of the moment, a tumbling of sheets, bodies and clothes.

Determined not to let it bother him, or at least pretend to, he swiftly undid his belt and yanked his trousers and shorts down in one go. He hurled the dirty package at Riddle.

"I don't have anything else here, gimme some of yours."

He settled down into the hot water.

Riddle held the offending items at arms length and then just dropped them on the pile of glass shards.

"Hey! I liked those!" Harry said annoyed.

"Exactly, this is probably my only chance to get rid of them."

Harry cursed under his breath but the hot water was too relaxing for him to actually get angry.

"Use the soap," Riddle instructed, nodding to the hard piece sitting on a rim of the tub. "If one can call that brick a soap. I remember them being liquid and in nice little bottles."

"Don't bother, warm water is already better than what I usually get," Harry replied and laid down to dunk his head as well. The soap was probably worth a fortune, and certainly of better quality than Harry had ever possessed.

When he came up again Riddle had moved over to the rim of the tub. Harry had to suppress the urge to curl into a ball.

"What?"

"It won't hurt to use luxuries here and there. At least let me wash your hair. You probably haven't washed it during your whole journey, it's disgusting."

Riddle grabbed the piece and made to hold Harry's head, but he quickly bolted away and sat up, heart hammering.

"Fine, I'll use the bloody soap. But I can wash myself, thank you very much."

Riddle merely looked amused. "You're not freaked out by sex."

"What the _hell_..?"

"My theory," Riddle clarified. "I thought it might be, but it's not, at least not per se. You have trouble with intimacy."

"Oh that is _rich_ coming from someone who's literally afraid to share his own name!"

"It's different. That is like a secret revealed, information that can turn into power. _You_ don't want anyone seeing you. Not your body, not your pleasure, not your insecurities or needs. You don't want to give away any kind of control and you don't want anyone taking care of you."

Harry scoffed derisively. "Well duh. I don't-…"

"You never had someone to take care of you, I know."

"I was going to say I don't _need_ it," he scowled. "Besides, all these things apply to you, probably more than to me. I don't see you flaunting your faults and getting pampered."

"I don't need to flaunt them, you already see them too easily. And _somebody_ insisted to be my moral compass. I let you did I not?"

Harry's jaw dropped at his admission, then he flushed crimson and quickly turned his head to the other side.

"Running away again?" Riddle tsked.

"This is like…way too awkward. Just…give me the soap now please?" he said weakly.

"Evasion, how clever," Riddle commented drily.

"Right back at you!" he snapped.

The lord sighed. "You're always twisting it towards me."

"You're always twisting it towards _me_!"

"I suppose we are very similar in those aspects," Riddle chuckled. "Strange, how you remain an enigma even still."

"Yes I'm sure the one sitting naked in your bathtub remains very mysterious to you," Harry cried. "Gods, Riddle, just…leave, _please_."

Riddle only smirked. "I thought we're facing our fears today?"

"I never said any of that! You fucking stabbed a knife between my fingers, of course I'd call you out on that!"

"Just lay back, you must be getting cold."

He was shivering actually, but he only laid back down very reluctantly, keeping an eye on Riddle warily.

It could have been nice probably, but Harry still tensed up under the fingers that started combing through his hair. It was decisively out of character for Riddle and as much as Harry sometimes wished he would change, he didn't know what to do with it.

"You look like I'm torturing you," Riddle said.

"Well you are, _Tom_."

The lord only hummed pensively in response. "That's going to lose its effect you know."

Harry's eyes widened and he sat partially up. "Does that mean I can call-…"

"No."

With that, strong hands dunked Harry's upper body underwater. Harry thrashed reflexively, but it was no use. One hand deftly shook out the soap in his hair and then the pressure ceased.

Harry broke out of the water, sputtering and with a racing heart. Riddle grinned at him.

"Bastard," Harry hissed after he found his breath.

Riddle stood up and placed the soap back. "Get out of the water child, it's getting chilly."

This time at least Riddle didn't seem interested in watching his every move. He even tossed him a pair of fresh trousers when he was otherwise dressed.

Harry let himself fall down into his own chair, his body pleasantly worn out. He pulled his feet up instinctively, to keep the warmth from the bath, and hugged his knees.

Riddle seemed mildly puzzled when he observed his curled up position. "You are in a very odd mood today."

Harry sighed, resisting the temptation to just bury his head on his knees as well. Anxious thoughts came back to haunt him.

"We have problems okay? Loads of them."

"We should talk then," Riddle agreed, then gave him a sly look. "Or are you too sleepy? You seemed rather _exhausted_ before."

Harry tried to ignore the new heat radiating from his ears as he glared at him. "Don't flatter yourself too much."

Riddle sobered and went back to his drink. "Is Grindelwald really getting gutted?"

"Yes," Harry confirmed darkly. "Did you really sent them the head?"

"Yes."

Harry groaned. "I retract my earlier statement. We don't have a lot of problems. We're standing on a fucking mountain of problems while shit is raining down on us.

Riddle raised his eyebrows at his crude language. Then he gulped down his drink, grabbed the bottle and held out a glass for Harry.

"…Drink?"

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't think I'm cut out for this. Might need to stick with 'T' stories in the future. *looks at her other stories* oh fuuuu-.
> 
> ANYWAYS they'll hopefully have that conversation now. I did feel like their relationship needed some developing. But oufff, they just ran away with it lmao ^_^. (Give Tom ONE opening and look what happens)
> 
> See you :))


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks out from hiding place* Uh, hello there, it's, ahem, it's been a while... Sorry about that, I've been completely blocked for some reason. I was waiting for inspiration to come back around, but then I realized it really has been an awful long time so... here's to me pushing through.
> 
> As always I can't thank you enough for leaving me reviews, you're the best :))
> 
> Enjoy! :)

 

 

 

 

 

"So," Harry began, after unceremoniously spitting out the disgusting drink Riddle had handed him. "You see severed heads rolling around the floor and think: 'oh, that makes a nice present for our enemies' ?"

Riddle watched the little wet spot on the floor besides Harry's chair with faint disdain. "Yes."

"Without even knowing _who_ our enemies are?"

"Yes."

"Knowing _very well_ you declared war on the group of people that orchestrated this new society and currently holds all the power?

"Yes."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, squinting his eyes shut against the vehemence of Riddle's unconcerned arrogance.

"None of which matters, as I intend to crush whoever stands in my way," Riddle continued nonchalantly.

Harry held up his hands. "Okay wait, let me just check the floor real quick. Maybe your mind lies around here somewhere, because I think you just _lost_ it."

Riddle tapped his temple with two fingers, smirking amused. "Still here."

"Arguably," Harry countered, unconvinced.

He hugged his knees tighter, his body still tingling pleasantly. Whether it was the effect of the warm bath or their previous…exertions…he wasn't sure.

And heavens above he needed to stop thinking about that.

Riddle stretched languidly, still positively glowing with contentment. Harry glared at him which only earned him a knowing smirk.

Bastard.

Eventually he sighed. "It's just… It's not like you. It's… rash. Risky. Unplanned."

Riddle propped up an elbow on one of the armrests and rested his chin in his palm. "Amusing how you presume to know me so well, child."

Harry could feel his cheeks flaring up and he scowled to hide his blush. Hadn't the lord _just_ confessed that Harry knew him well?

"I am not like you _Harry_. You're brain spreads out into endless possibilities. Useful, yet a hindrance if you need to decide. You contemplate too much, wanting to know all the variables. Sometimes I think you only take action if your hand is forced and if you do, it's usually reckless. I see opportunities and seize them."

Harry snorted in disbelief. "You always plan a hundred steps ahead."

"Of the route I've taken yes. I decide on a course of action, I stay on it. Being taken off guard is fatal, unexpected things a nuisance or," he looked at Harry, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "A distraction."

"Yes well, you declaring war on whoever the fuck receives your little gift is more than a _nuisance_ in my plan," Harry grumbled.

Because he did wonder who would get the head in the end. Salazar? Somehow the man hadn't made the impression of actually being in charge the guild right now, even if he had effectively dethroned their leader.

Riddle raised an eyebrow. "And what grand plan would that be?"

"Staying alive."

"Now _there's_ something we can agree on."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Shouldn't we discuss your part of the story first?" Riddle pointed out. "So far you only said you failed, then went ahead and knocked yourself unconscious with your own bloody scribbles. Which you wrote down _before_ you left Hogwarts."

"Well I didn't need Lucius' goddamn table etiquette that's for sure," Harry muttered, quickly trying to steer Riddle's attention away from his blackout. "In fact, everyone present knew I wasn't Lord Voldemort. Grindelwald because he recognized me, our new friend Salazar Slytherin because… uhm, well, I'm still pondering on that."

"Did he know immediately? Or found out?" Riddle asked.

"I can't really say. But he made it pretty clear he knew exactly who I was by the time I was leaving."

"How clear? With a mind like yours, you might connect things in strange wa-…"

"He wrote down my fucking _name_ in blood, is that clear enough for you?" Harry said annoyed.

That gave Riddle pause. "A man with a flair for the dramatic."

"You'll get along splendidly then," Harry remarked drily, earning a slightly irritated scowl from the lord.

"Well, he did let you go unharmed."

"Yes, which is very weird considering what he wants."

Riddle cocked his head curiously. "What he wants?"

Harry cringed visibly, cursing his too fast tongue. Riddle, of course, picked up on his discomfort immediately.

"What _does_ he want, Harry?"

Harry squirmed a bit, before sighing and giving up. "Me."

"Now that," Riddle said darkly, "is unacceptable. You're mine."

"I doubt your intentions are the same," Harry snorted, then froze in mild horror. "Gods I certainly hope not."

"What does he want from you?"

Harry sighed. "That could be anything from slow painful death to enlightening philosophical discussions."

"And yet he let you go," Riddle pointed out unhelpfully.

"You tell me! He thinks in the same convoluted ways as you!"

"It is a shame I couldn't be there to meet him. But we also had questions for Grindelwald, questions that will now go unanswered."

"Yeah unless you want to go there, sack Grindelwald and drag him here," Harry said. "Which I really wouldn't advise. The man isn't exactly a saint either."

Red eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I thought Slytherin was gutting Grindelwald. I assumed he was dead."

Harry stilled completely, only his eyes darting around nervously. "Uhmm…."

Riddle stood up, slowly walking towards Harry's chair, observing his stiff posture keenly. "I can see you trying to come up with lies, _Harry_. Tell me everything."

Harry swallowed. "Erm, there's really not much more to tell…"

Riddle started circling his chair. His eyes fixed on Harry like a hawk on his prey. His presence suffocating.

"You had a blackout. I know you don't get them unless you're trying to figure out something important."

He came to a stop at Harry's side, leaning in closely while Harry refused to look at him, stubbornly fixing the wall straight ahead.

"Tell me," the lord insisted.

Harry gritted his teeth. "I can't."

"Oh I disagree," Riddle hissed, angry now at being denied what he wanted.

And Harry knew he would never stop. Whatever he will say it wouldn't matter to him. Riddle got obsessed over knowledge and secrets. Now that he smelled one he would never let it go.

Unless…

"Don't make me," Harry whispered, finally turning his head to look at him. "I know you could drag it out of me Riddle, I _know,_ but… Please."

"Please?" Riddle drew back bewildered. "Please?" he repeated, the word sounding foreign from his mouth.

"Not once did you beg for something. You usually just _demand_ things, outrageous child." He slowly curled his fingers around Harry's chin, tilting it up towards him. "You do realize this just makes me want to know it more?"

Harry remained silent, but otherwise made no move to jerk free.

"Why?" Riddle asked silkily. "Why don't you want to tell me?"

"It would make you wish for things that are impossible," Harry said tonelessly.

"Right now I only wish to destroy the guild. Get my revenge and seize their power."

Harry looked him squarely in the eyes, willing him to understand. "Then you won't need that information."

"It would be the last puzzle piece," Riddle countered. "You see the big picture don't you Harry?" He leaned down, their noises almost touching as his red eyes burnt into Harry's. "You see everything clear and whole, and you deny me the view."

Harry took a deep breath. "2374."

Riddle drew back slowly. "I know that number. You said it during your episode."

"I didn't mention the zeroes," Harry said. "2374 times 10 to the power of 3. 2374000. Over 2 million."

And that was only the purely theoretical value. It didn't count the experiments. The preliminary tests. The several tries it must have took them to get it right just _once_. The final number had to be hundreds of millions.

And no one realized it. Because these millions vanished along the other millions in a chaos that almost had been the downfall of humanity.

Except they hadn't vanished completely. Some of their energy buzzed in Harry's own blood.

"That's the amount of lives that were destroyed just for …" he broke off. "A multitude of it actually. You can't want that. Not even you… I _have_ to believe that. I have to believe you wouldn't actually want that many people to die."

How many were left anyways? The amount of people living in just one city before was now scattered across one continent.

Riddle didn't seem entirely sure what to make of Harry's ramblings. "Believe, trust, beg… You rely on concepts I despise, child."

Harry looked away. Of course, Riddle had never taken no as an answer. He never gave up, always got what he wanted, never compromised. To expect someone like that to just let it go because Harry said so was impossible.

"Okay."

Harry's head snapped back up in surprise. "O-okay?"

"The surprise in your voice is downright insulting, what happened to all that trust?" Riddle chuckled.

"Uh, sorry it's just…"

Harry was aware he was basically gaping at the lord. He couldn't help it. For all that talk about Riddle changing slowly, he had never truly believed it. But now…was it actually possible?

"Do not make it a habit to keep information from me child," Riddle said disdainfully, settling down in his own chair. "Besides, your scheming behind my back always lands you in nothing but trouble. I will enjoy it when you come crying to me for help."

" _You_ are the one who just started a war," bristled Harry. "You're stirring up trouble even without me. Do we even have allies?"

"Of course we have allies. Or did you forget about your friends calling themselves the resistance?"

"I haven't even talked to them about this mess yet!"

Riddle shrugged. "They wanted you to pick up their fight and lead. They'll be more than happy."

"Fight against who? What? Where?" Harry groaned exasperated.

"The reason it has never come to an outright confrontation is because the resistance had no cause to unite again and the guild was more than happy to hunt them down slowly, one by one. If you step out into the open, things will change."

"I don't really do _open_ ," Harry grumbled. "What about what I want eh? Long quiet life without anyone trying to kill me?"

Riddle smirked unapologetically. "You've been discovered anyways. Scrimgeour knew for a while now. Soon they'll know we didn't die in their trap. And thanks to the head they'll know we are aware. They won't have another option than coming at us directly."

"Yes, well, that sounds nice in theory and all. But do they even know who their leader is anymore? Grindelwald basically exiled himself. Who even knows on what side he is anymore? Now Slytherin could take over, but I believe he targeted Grindelwald specifically, the guild was never his goal. Not that he will say no to use their power I suppose…"

And kill anyone who stands in the way to his immortality. Namely Harry. After torturing him for the much needed information.

"Their whole structure is based on utmost secrecy. Their chain of command might not even require a true leader anymore, certainly not one that is publicly known," Riddle continued. "If we manage to take out the ones with some control we might be able to corrupt them so completely we'll have them working for us in no time."

Harry felt as if his head had started to spin on his neck from trying to follow Riddle's plans.

"I hate politics," he muttered, glancing at Riddle who was all but brimming with excitement. It was obvious the man was in his element.

Harry shook his head and stood up stiffly. "Alright, that's enough planning of world domination for me today."

Riddle seemed mildly disappointed. "You haven't even told me about your new little friend."

Barty…ugh.

"He's harmless, I think. Completely off his rocker though. He's convinced you saved him and now he idolizes you."

"He thinks you're me," Riddle pointed out amused.

"Well I guess our plan worked on _one_ person then," Harry snorted. "Do your best to convince him the real Voldemort is you. His reverence makes me sick. I don't know how you can stand it."

"Why did you bring him along?"

Harry sighed. "Slytherin insisted."

"A spy?" Riddle ventured.

"Probably, but unwittingly."

"We should kill him, just to be sure."

Harry rolled his eyes at his predictable suggestion. "Yes because that won't be suspicious at all."

"Slytherin already knows you're not Voldemort. There's no point in keeping up a charade."

"If he has a way to contact Slytherin he could still be useful," Harry tried. "We just have to make sure he's reporting the things we want to."

Riddle chuckled. " _Now_ you're thinking in the right way."

Harry opened the door decisively. "See? I do know what you like."

Riddle leered at him in a way that made Harry's face heat up again.

"That you do."

Harry pointedly ignored him when he walked out and shut the door behind him.

He walked through the labyrinth of corridors that led to Riddle's private study with ease. It was even a bit disconcerting how familiar the path felt nowadays, especially after their journey.

He made his way up to the entrance hall and was a bit surprised when he saw that it was already dark outside. How long had he been in there?

The hall was deserted except for Ron, who sat unmoving at the foot of the big stairwell, looking a bit lost.

Harry could only assume that no one had really bothered to explain him anything, or at least help him settle down.

"Bella finally released you then?"

Ron's head snapped into his direction. He seemed relieved when he saw who was approaching him.

"No offence but the people here are a bit…"

Harry grinned. "Insane? Crazy? Psychopathic? Cracked?"

"I was going to say _wild_ , but those work as well yeah."

"You'll get used to them…somewhat," Harry assured him and sat down next to him on the stairs.

"You one of the normal ones then?" Ron laughed.

"Mad as a hatter," Harry replied solemnly.

Ron frowned confused. "What does that mean?"

"I have no idea. Picked it up somewhere."

"Veterans are weird," Ron said and Harry could only agree.

They sat in silence for a while, Harry furiously racking his brain for a possible way to gently tell the other that several members of his family were still alive while the others had died because of him.

"So uhh… You lived in the Baron's territory?"

"Yeah… It was terrible, honestly. But well, someone like me doesn't have much options. And then I was stuck there anyways."

Harry took a deep breath. "Your family…uhm…"

Ron interrupted him before he could continue, obviously thinking Harry wanted to ask a question. "Haven't had one since the chaos."

"Yeah about _that_."

And then he told him everything, starting from the beginning and trying to keep a chronological order. Ron's eyes slowly grew wide in wonder, apparently too shocked for now to ask any questions.

Harry didn't know how long they sat there while he tried to explain everything, but when he finished he had to stretch his back because it hurt from being in a cramped position for so long.

Ron's silence had started to worry him though.

"I'm really sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. Your parents should have just thrown me away and-…"

Ron surprised him by smiling. "No, this is good, really. I always thought they died pointlessly you know? But it was because they believed in something. I never knew what happened, mum didn't talk about it. I just knew there was a dad and brothers out there, but I only knew my sister. We were running from something, but I did not know what."

"How did you..?"

"I think they didn't know I existed," Ron mused. "We were traveling through an abandoned village and split up to search for food and stuff. I never found mum or Ginevra again. They must have thought the youngest child didn't survive after they found us right when mum gave birth. I think they mistook her for me."

"Ginevra?"

Ron grinned widely. "We named her Ginevera. You guys named her Ginny. Weird isn't it?"

"What are the odds?" Harry laughed. "The twins didn't know her name."

"We were split up before that," Ron shrugged sadly. "I can't even remember them. Do you know where they are?"

Harry shook his head apologetically. "But I'll find a way to contact them, I promise."

Hopefully they had made contact with the resistance by now and Aberforth would know more.

"And if you want to get out of here," Harry continued, "because honestly, they _are_ all mental here, you could go to London. I have friends there, leading a group. They're good people."

"Thanks mate, but I'll stay if you guys let me. I can't believe I could actually honour Hermione's last words, but with dumb luck I guess I did."

Ron's choice of words made Harry afraid to appear inconsiderate, but eventually his curiosity won. "Who's Hermione?"

"Someone truly amazing," Ron smiled sadly. "You'd have liked her I think. She was incredibly clever. I still don't know what she found, but she learnt about you."

Now Harry was really astonished. And a bit unsettled. "Me? How?"

"She found those books in the fortress. I dunno, she became obsessed. Started talking about all manners of conspiracies. Hearing your stories I'm assuming she was right about everything," Ron chuckled, then his expression became empty and he looked down. "It got her killed."

Ron's expression made it clear that they had been close. "I'm sorry."

"She told me to help you. But, ah, I'm afraid I don't know with what. The baron though," he looked at Harry oddly. "He told me that your 'clock is ticking'. Any idea what that means?"

The feeling of being dumped in ice water washed over Harry. The Baron had known he was dying. _How?_

If the guild knew too… If the last hope for the resistance was wilting away without them having to do anything… All they need was to wait it out to crush them. And the open confrontation Riddle was hoping for would not happen, the threat too mild to push the guild into action. On the other hand, even Grindelwald had appeared ignorant to the full extent of his condition.

"And she learnt about me from books?" Harry rushed out.

"I mean, that's what I think. I don't know where else she could have gotten your name."

"Do you know what kind of books?" Harry pressed on.

"I can't even read," Ron protested. "All I know is that she could go on and on about Flamel this Flamel tha-…"

"Flamel?" Harry exclaimed alarmed. "Nicholas Flamel?"

Books about Flamel? No, what if…Books _from_ Flamel? If his research still existed…even if it was only partially intact, then Slytherin had been wrong to assume everything vanished with the man. And the knowledge was still out there, just ready to be picked up by more power hungry individuals.

"You know him?" Ron asked surprised.

"In a manner of speaking," Harry growled darkly. "Ron this is very important, do you know where those books are?"

"Sorry I never even saw them. They must have been kept in the fortress. Maybe your group took them with them? I saw them gathering some stuff during the days we stayed there."

Harry was struck with the implications. If the books said something about his condition. About immortality. If they brought them here _._

_If Riddle read them_ …

"Hold that thought!" Harry said hurriedly, then started to sprint up the stairs.

Riddle couldn't possibly have read them already. He would have said something for sure. But what if they were already in his possession? Just waiting to be opened?

He barged into the hospital wing and thankfully Snape was there, working on one of his mixtures again.

"Books," Harry gasped, completely out of breath.

"If you could elaborate a bit Potter, I mighteven understand what you're talking about," the man sneered.

Harry managed to get some more air before pressing on. "Did Voldemort bring any books back from the baron?"

"We always take books if we find any."

Harry grasped the man's arm fiercely, looking at him intently. "Where. Are. They?"

Snape frowned at his vehemence. "Over there on the table. I will file them into the library, but usually our lord likes to sort through them befo-…"

Harry hurried over to the indicated table, which was weighted down by a few stacks of books.

"Has he looked at them already?" he asked urgently, while unceremoniously flicking through the tomes.

Usually he would be excited at the mere sight of potential unread books, but now he scanned them in a quick, clinical way, roughly pushing those aside that he already looked at.

Snape watched his wild ransacking with clear disdain. "Looking for something specific?"

"Are there any others? Has Riddle taken some already? Has anyone seen these?"

"Calm down Potter, no one has touched them."

He flipped through the last books of the stack. No mention about Flamel or anything else suspicious.

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"Potter-" Snape began annoyed.

"Fuck it," Harry started to gather the books. "Just burn them all."

Snape looked at him like Harry had just suggested to murder his firstborn.

"I will not burn _books_."

"You don't understand-"

"Indeed, I don't."

"I don't know if they are actually here but Riddle can't get his hands on them if they are. He _can not_ , Snape."

"Is this about your condition?" the smart man asked, obviously able to discern what could have possibly plunged him into such a frenzy.

"I'm not the only one," Harry said, realizing just now Snape didn't know that yet. "It's replicable."

Snape took the fact with his usual stoic expression, but there was a pause before he spoke again. "Which part of your condition?"

"The, err, creepy part."

Snape tensed up slightly, then huffed. "We're not burning the books. How exactly would you explain their vanishing to the lord anyways?"

"Uhm…accident?"

"What you're looking for isn't here. No one else could possibly have them. Wherever they were, they were hidden or we must have overlooked them. Besides, we didn't pillage the place as thoroughly as we would have usually. Our lord was in an uncharacteristic hurry to get home."

Harry blinked at him. "Why was he in a hurry?"

Snape stared at him in disbelief. "You still don't-… Get out you idiotic boy."

Harry did, but not before checking the books again to make sure there really wasn't any mention of Flamel's research.

He came face to face with Riddle himself outside.

The lord looked down at him suspiciously. "Conspiring with traitors again, Harry?"

"N-no," Harry laughed awkwardly. "Just, err, looking through some books."

"Funny," Riddle remarked, scrutinizing him. "I was just about to do the same."

"Uhm, r-really? Well knock yourself out then. Some have weird titles though. I mean, 'Fifty Shades of Grey'? I'll have you know there are an infinite shades of grey, because it's a _spectrum_ you see and-"

"You amuse me to no end child," Riddle said, interrupting his ramblings.

"Ah, yes, well, that's me. Infinitely amusing. Totally harmless."

Riddle raised an eyebrow sceptically. "Make sure you write to your hopefully not-so-harmless friends tonight."

"Riiight, world domination. Almost forgot," Harry nodded while slipping past him.

How did people manage to have a normal life?

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there we go. Not too happy about this chapter, but hey, we're moving again! I'll go hunt my muse some more now. Wish me luck in avoiding the bombs my uni is trying to throw at me.
> 
> Hope you're all doing fine! (srsly please don't die of old age until the next chapter...The danger is real... I'm kidding...Or am I?)
> 
> Cya :)


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No! It's a new chapter! I know - at this point seeing superman is more probable.
> 
> Not sure where all that time went (okay I confess to reading every available scrap of fanfiction in the Hamilton fandom but that's not the point), but let's see how many of you are still alive and willing to enjoy this. As always, my sincerest thanks for all your reviews!
> 
> Enjoy :)

 

 

That boy would be the death of him.

Tom stared idly at the bathtub that stood innocently in the corner of his study. It was empty now, but the image of Harry sitting in it, trying and failing spectacularly to relax, was permanently ingrained in his mind.

Tom had always liked to put people on the spot and Harry was almost ridiculously easy to tease. But lately…lately Tom genuinely wanted him to calm down, to take a break. And wasn't it ironic that the one - the first - person Tom wanted to soothe was a never-ending tangle of twitching restlessness?

Their problems kept piling up. And while it only filled Tom with the addictive energy of anticipation, he couldn't count on Harry reacting the same way. Tom had no wish to see him crack under the pressure.

He wanted to protect him. And at the same time there was the absolutely, completely, liberating certainty that he didn't _need_ to. That this frizzling ball of energy only seemed to burn brighter the more the world pressed down on him.

Rising to the challenge. They had that in common.

But it hadn't escaped Tom's notice that the boy had suddenly become weary lately. It was clear he had been tired, the hint of dark circles under his eyes permanent nowadays. Tom didn't want to be concerned, didn't know what to do with concern, barely understood the concept, but something was nagging him.

He had let the boy keep his secrets before, his scheming proving nothing but amusing in the end. But something about the way Harry's expression twisted whenever this new thing came up resonated badly with him.

It was something akin to worry, but Tom wouldn't be too concerned if it was only that. The boy worried all the time about pointless things, always overthinking everything, except when Tom finally managed to coax him to relax and let go, usually when kissing him within an inch of his life... Harry looked good like that…

Tom shook his head annoyed.

No, it wasn't the fact that Harry was hiding things, or the fact that Tom didn't like the face the boy made when it came up, no… It was how Harry had reacted when Tom had tried to force it out of him that really put Tom on edge.

_Please._

He should have pushed, should have insisted, demanded… Why hadn't he?

Yes he wasn't too concerned about the boy's little secrets, he was sure they would come out eventually, but that was no excuse for the way he had just… backed down.

His mind all but dissolved upon hearing the plea.

This needed to stop. No one was allowed to have that much power over him.

Harry was an interesting little thing. Delightful company with an unparalleled mind. A fiery temper that could withstand Tom's storms. Delectable, compatible, rebellious and yet compliant in all the right ways… Yes, there was no doubt Tom was quite smitten with the boy. Had been for a while now, only idiots would try to deliberately ignore their own feelings. Tom had become good in recognizing them, in order to dissuade them.

But there were limits.

Harry had broken down many walls Tom had thought impenetrable. He found himself caring for the younger man's well-being, heeding his advice even if it did not make sense to him, actively seeking out his company in situations when he always had preferred solitude.

_Please._

That was a line he could not let the boy cross. That was raw, uncontrolled power. That was… trust.

Disgusting. Something needed to be done about it quickly. He just didn't know what.

He was unwilling to let the boy go, for that he was far too fond of him. On the other hand this couldn't escalate any further.

He was Lord Voldemort. He would crush the men responsible for his mother's death - and the destruction of humanity - and control the country, the world.

People could not just say 'please' and expect to get away with it.

Except Harry hadn't _expected_ it had he? He had looked just as surprised as Tom felt himself.

Whatever this was. Whatever this could become. For better or for worse. It dawned on him that, apparently, they were in this together.

Could he still resist him if it came down to it?

…Did he really want to?

 

* * *

 

 

"Wow," was the first thing Ron said, upon seeing Draco at breakfast.

From the way Draco preened and sent Harry smug looks, it was obviously the best thing he could have said.

"I've only ever seen a first generation from afar," Ron continued, still amazed.

"Now this," Draco said, looking at Harry and pointing to Ron. "Is the appropriate reaction." The child turned to Ron and gestured offended to Harry. "He was _so_ rude to me."

"I saved your life!" Harry protested.

"While being rude."

"Why, you ungrateful little piece of-"

"I advise you not to finish that sentence, Mr Potter."

Harry let out a long sigh and turned slightly on the bench to glance up at Lucius. "Maybe instead of wasting your manner lessons on me, you should focus on your hellspawn here, Mr Malfoy."

Lucius wrinkled his nose offended. "I happen to think Draco is very well behaved."

"I'm sure you do," Harry said, covertly rolling his eyes in Ron's direction who hid his grin behind his glass.

"Unlike you, who is once again not sitting where you should," Lucius continued.

Harry turned back to him. "If our dear lord has a problem with my choice he can come to me directly."

"It seems not even our lord can beat the insolence out of you."

Harry laughed. "Why, Lucius, was that a compliment?"

"If I'm forced to endure another of these 'no-one-eats episodes' because of your antics…" Lucius trailed off warningly.

"I promise I'll sit at the head table for dinner?" Harry offered with a sigh.

Lucius pressed his mouth together in mild disapproval. "I shall rely your message. He will not be happy."

"Is he ever?"

Lucius ignored him and wordlessly took Draco's hand, leading him away.

Ron cleared his throat. "So I've been trying to figure out the hierarchy here…"

Harry scratched at his head sheepishly. "It's, uh… I'm afraid you're asking the wrong guy. I kind of fell through the cracks myself, I think."

"Uh-huh," Ron made, suspicious. "That guy over there has not looked away from you once."

Harry turned slightly to see who Ron was looking at. "Oh that's Barty. He's, uhm… Don't mind him."

"Uh-huh," Ron repeated, doubtfully. "Also the bat-like fellow looks ready to kill literally everyone."

"Yeah, that's Snape. He kind of hates everyone, but it's okay, he's got super self-restraint," Harry laughed. "Oh except that one time when he killed another lord and Riddle- I mean, Voldemort, was incredibly pissed…"

He saw the horrified expression on Ron's face and quickly continued. "Oh but he totally deserved it - the other lord I mean. And he was kind of in the process of killing me, so, yeah. Don't worry about Snape, he's nicer than he looks."

Ron still did not look convinced. "And that woman- Bellatrix right? She jumped you in the entrance hall and tried to bash your head in because..?"

"Ah, well," Harry waved his hand casually. "She calls it _training_ …"

Ron was staring at him, his fingers drumming on the table restlessly.

"Okay, so, I know they all sound crazy," Harry said, feeling the strange urge to defend their group at least partially. "But if they give you any trouble just come to me, okay? They're mostly just talk and-"

"Are you alright?" Ron interrupted.

"I- am I-…huh?" he stuttered.

Ron shrugged. "You know, how are you holding up through all of this?"

"I…" Harry began slowly, not sure what to do with that kind of question. "I'm, uh, I'm…fine?"

Ron looked slightly frustrated at that point. "Mate, that was like, the most unconvincing thing I've ever heard."

"No honestly, I'm good," Harry assured him quickly. "I just… I haven't been asked that in a very long time."

For a short moment, he missed Sirius and Remus with an almost physical ache.

Ron blinked at him. "Okay, wow, you clearly don't know how to take care of yourself."

"I survived thus far!" he protested.

Ron snorted. "Beginners luck."

"I couldn't have said it better, Mr Weasley," a voice from behind Harry spoke.

He didn't need to turn around to know who loomed over him.

Ron looked up at Riddle warily. "Thanks…my lord."

Harry glanced between them and could feel himself tense up slightly, ready to defend his new friend if Riddle suddenly had one of his unpredictable mood swings.

But Riddle only contemplated Ron shortly, before turning his attention to Harry and sighed. "You're sitting in the wrong place again, child."

"Oh come on!" Harry said irritated. Why the fuck was it so important where he ate?

Riddle was unimpressed and merely held up a folded letter. "We should talk."

Harry frowned at the piece of paper. "I'm convinced that literally everything bad that ever happened in my life began with letters."

Riddle arched an eyebrow. "We met because of a letter."

"My point exactly."

"Harsh," Riddle tsked. "When will you show me your tender side?"

"There is none," Harry deadpanned.

"Hmm. _Yesterday_ -"

Harry could feel his face flush uncomfortably and he stood up quickly. "Uhm, so, about that letter..?"

Riddle was smirking satisfied. He threw a pointed look in the direction of the head table.

Harry gave the rather confused looking Ron a half-shrug and made his way to his designated seat because, well, you gotta pick your battles.

He let himself fall down on the chair, well aware that he looked like he was sulking, and glared at the lord.

"You're playing dirty," he accused him, grabbing an apple from the bowl of fruits because fuck Riddle's ridiculous rules about starting meals.

" _Dirty,_ eh?" Riddle smirked.

"Oh for fuck's-… Shut up," Harry growled.

Riddle did, the letter lying obtrusively next to him on the table, but the lord simply ignored it for the sake of arranging his food.

Soon Harry couldn't stand it anymore. "Okay, okay, _fine_. What's in the letter?"

Riddle gave him a brilliant smile that was entirely fake. "I thought you would never ask!"

"Riddle I swear-"

"Do you remember lord Gryffindor?"

Harry's mind flashed back to the bizarre ball they attended, when so much was still unknown to him. Of course he remembered the tall, broad-shouldered lord with a slightly too honest attitude. Nowadays there were few things Harry didn't remember.

He shrugged. "He was alright."

"He's under attack."

Harry stared at him in disbelief, waiting for something more, but Riddle seemed happy to continue chewing.

"What the-..? Is he okay? Will we help him? Why are we just eating when we should be-"

"Calm down," Riddle chided. "In case you forgot, we aren't exactly allies."

"You think I suddenly started caring about politics?!"

Riddle sighed. "Stop worrying. It has turned into a siege, he's fine for now."

"That doesn't sound _fine_!"

"Thus the letter. Normally I would have dismissed his call for help-"

"Of course you would," Harry said bitterly.

"But then I read the name of his attacker," Riddle continued unfazed. "It's Slytherin."

"That's… _Why_?"

"What I would like to know is who's fighting for him. Because our dear friend Scrimgeour is holed up together with Gryffindor."

"So it's not the guild, but… that makes even less sense."

"I think this confirms my guess. The guild has lost its firm structure long ago. Slytherin is using it to his advantage. My guess is he's only partially overtaking Grindelwald's initial position, throwing everything into confusion."

"He's doing what you were planning to do," Harry pointed out.

"Smart man," Riddle said. "I don't like him."

"But why is he attacking Gryffindor? He is probably one of the few lords which truly do not have anything to do with this mess."

"I have a theory," Riddle said, nodding in Barty's direction. "He knew about London and our challenge with Fudge. If he knew about the ball as well and told Slytherin…"

"So what? Why would he want to go against Gryffindor?"

"If I were him," Riddle started and Harry shuddered, because that was not a picture he wanted in his head. "My first choice would have been lady Luna."

" _What?!_ "

"However, no one knows where she actually lives, so attacking her without a formal challenge would have been impossible. Gryffindor is the next best substitute."

Harry just gawked at him in confusion. Riddle's line of thoughts remained a mystery to him.

The lord chuckled at his bewildered expression. "You are truly not suited for this game, child."

Harry bristled. "I think that just means that I'm _sane_."

"He wants _you_. You refused to tell me why, but the fact still stands. He seems to be aware of your tendency to rush to help people, especially if you know them. He's drawing you out again."

"He could have just kept me there! I-… Shit!" Harry cursed. How many more people would get hurt because of him?

"Relax, he isn't fighting yet. He doesn't plan to. He's simply waiting for your move."

"I don't have any moves!"

"You always have options. Do nothing, or take action." Riddle's eyes were glinting dangerously as he leaned towards Harry. "The guild is breaking down, we know exactly where Slytherin is and he can't move any time soon because of Gryffindor. The resistance is just waiting for you to give a signal. If there was ever a time to fight, it is now."

Harry sat back, his food forgotten.

Fight. And then what? What would they even achieve? Even with a victory, what was the point in any of this anymore?

He had never been one to look into the future, always too focused to stay alive in the present. And now there was no future for him. One last bloodshed. For justice, for revenge, to stop another tragedy. Was that what he wanted to achieve?

He looked at Riddle, the man all but brimming with energy. Bloodthirst perhaps, or just the thrill of a fight, or maybe it was the strategic planning behind it that excited him, the knowledge to have the upper hand, to see everything come together like he planned.

"You really want this huh?"

He did not need a reply, Riddle had given him his answer long ago.

_I'm talking about the world._

At one point Harry had thought he would be the one to give it to him.

He shrugged, pretending nonchalance as if this didn't had the high risk of killing them both. "'kay, so how are we doing this?"

Riddle's smirk broadened. "Well, Hogwarts could hold _a lot_ more people than our group."

Harry's eyes widened. "You want to just...invite them all here?"

"Use your owl to contact the resistance, we will dispatch messengers for our other allies. They will probably be a bit slower, but still fast enough. The longest distance is London."

_London._

"Woah hold on! We are not dragging them into this mess!"

"I know you think of them as your friends," Riddle began.

"They _are_ my friends," Harry scowled.

Riddle rolled his eyes. "They are also controlling the biggest city. The last one still somewhat intact, at least in this country. They probably are the biggest group."

"I don't care."

"Do you think they would want you to go into this alone? Don't you think they would _want_ to help?"

"I-…That's…That's not the point!"

"Now _who_ is withholding information and making decisions for others?" Riddle asked smugly.

Harry glared at him. "I will tell them what is happening, but I won't ask."

"They will probably be the first ones to arrive."

Harry hated how true it sounded. Hated it even more that he was looking forward to it, to finally see them again.

"You're worrying again," Riddle said disapprovingly and flicked his forehead.

Harry's frown only increased as he rubbed the stinging spot. "That's not helping."

"Luckily I know something that does help," Riddle said, eyes becoming hooded.

"Do you now?" he echoed, his mouth drying up.

"You could go up and write your letters," the lord suggested, then his voice dropped. "I could join you in a few minutes."

Harry willed the heat to stay off his face, but judging by the amused flicker in Riddle's eyes he wasn't doing a very good job. "It's like…Nine in the morning."

Riddle merely tilted his head in acknowledgment. "So it is."

Harry's stomach was doing weird things, so he gave up on eating soon afterwards. When he stood up and walked out of the hall with Riddle's eyes trailing after him, he pretended his legs were in fact not made out of jelly.

 

* * *

 

After sending their messages throughout the country there was not much to do except to wait. The group continued to clean up and repair the castle, since hopefully more people would soon temporarily live here.

Bellatrix continued to beat him up on a regular basis. Snape took some more samples from him to compare to the previous ones. Ron settled into a room not far from Harry's and they sat together during meals as often as Voldemort let it slip. Draco once sneaked into the dorm and almost blew himself up, which got him a stern scolding from his father and a high-five from Bella.

It felt oddly like home, despite the dark uncertainty looming over his head.

He tried not to think about the fact that if left uninterrupted he could easily sleep for fifteen hours, or that Riddle teased him about eating for two. He tried to convince himself that the new ideas springing into his mind almost every morning now were just fits of inspiration, not something his mind churned up during what should have been his sleep.

He dutifully reported everything back to Snape though. Sometimes he needed to talk about it and the only other option would have been to disrupt someone else's piece of mind permanently.

Besides, Snape might not have been a caring shoulder to cry into, but he at least possessed the sturdiness to take Harry's morbid thoughts unflinchingly.

"I guess at this point it's more about making sure that I die at the right time."

Snape was copying down recipes from an old, bleached out tome. He didn't look at him, but Harry knew he had his attention.

"There is no _right_ time to die, idiotic boy."

"Just, you know… Being the least disruptive?"

"Potter," Snape sighed, glancing up from his work. "I believe that at least when it comes to one's own death, one is allowed to be selfish. It's not something you can control."

"It's not like that," Harry objected. "I mean, I don't care either way, so I might as well try and make it… I don't know…smooth for anyone else?"

"Have you ever lost someone? Someone you vividly remember I mean?"

Harry thought about his parents and the one solid memory he had of his mother. There was no one else. "No."

"It's never smooth," Snape said grimly. "So you might as well stop wasting time thinking about it and just-…" He grimaced.

"Let it happen?" Harry smiled knowingly. "I'm not very good at waiting around."

"As I see it you have a choice, and none of the two ways are optimal."

Harry looked at him questioningly and he continued. "There is something you can do for others if you wish, it might sour the time you still have, but in turn will lessen the blow."

Harry caught on immediately and clenched his fists. "No, absolutely not."

"It would spare him the shock at least," Snape said softly. He didn't need to specify who he was referring to.

Harry stared at his hands. "I don't want to. See? I'm more selfish than you give me credit for."

For he had realized that he wasn't telling Riddle because _he_ didn't want anything to change. He was well aware that had it been the other way around, he would have wanted to know too.

He started to wonder if humans were hypocritical per default.

"Then there's nothing left to do," Snape said and returned to his notes. "And because this country will soon face the biggest fight since the chaos, there's a high chance none of us will come out of it alive. If we do survive…Well, you'll get to see the new world you helped create."

Harry gave that more thought than he expected, contemplating it when he was alone in his dorm, most often after Riddle left.

With the guild gone and the tentative group system crumbling, what would come out of the ashes? The answer was very obvious and yet not. Voldemort.

Knowing Riddle, he would seize power effortlessly. But what kind of man would rule?

His musings were interrupted by hesitant knocks on the painting that marked the entrance to his dorm.

It was still early in the evening, but Harry felt sleepy and blearily made his way to the entrance.

"Rosier?" he asked confused, blinking into the dimly lit corridor.

"Well then…" Rosier snorted, his eyebrows rising as he took in Harry's appearance.

Harry looked down at himself and cursed. In his drowsy state he had apparently forgotten that he was only half-dressed.

"Not a word," Harry threatened, "I've had an exhausting day."

"Oh I'm sure it was, lord Voldemort had a spring in his step," Rosier remarked amused.

Harry scowled at him. "What do you want?"

The man shifted on his feet uncomfortably. The uncharacteristic action managed to put Harry enough on guard to wake up completely. He had never seen the other anything but casual.

"I happened to watch the perimeter when I met a rather strange man close to the woods. He insisted on speaking to you immediately."

Harry swallowed, already not liking where this was going. "Where is he now?"

"Still where I found him, he promised to wait."

"You left a stranger unguarded on our lands?"

"Well he didn't want to come inside," Rosier said, sounding frustrated. "And I _should_ have gone to lord Voldemort, I really, really, should have, but I-… I don't know."

Harry watched his small breakdown nervously. "Hey, it's fine, he was asking for me after all."

Rosier laughed drily. "That doesn't matter and you know it. Alerting my lord should be the natural response. I've never _wavered_ like that before."

"It's not like you're betraying him," Harry protested.

Rosier cocked his head. "Yeah? And I'm assuming you'll tell him everything?"

"Uhm, w-well, that depends."

"That means I'll be keeping a secret from my lord," Rosier said, shaking his head. "You're screwing with my head, lordling."

"I'm…sorry?"

"Ah well," Rosier sighed. "Nothing for it now. Come on, I'll show you to our mystery man."

Harry hastily grabbed his shirt and followed him out into the cool evening. There was still quite a bit of light, but when they approached the border of the thick forest the large trees stood over them gloomily and cast them into dim shadow.

"Why does everything always happen when it's creepy," Harry muttered, earning an odd look from Rosier.

"You might want to prepare yourself a bit, the guy looked pretty banged up. He was walking on his own, but he seemed covered in dried blood."

"Fantastic," Harry replied drily.

"He should be around here actually." Rosier squinted his eyes and scanned the trees.

"Did he not at least say his name?"

"He was kind of mumbling, it was something long."

"Wonderful."

Rosier snorted. "Hey I'm not the genius here. He did mention the other scary dude though, you know, the one we visited?"

Harry stopped walking abruptly. "He comes from Slytherin and you didn't tell me?!"

"What? I thought he was our ally or something, wasn't that the point of visiting him? And we brought Barty with us!"

"He wrote my name in _blood_ does that sound like friend to you?!" Harry yelled.

Before Rosier could reply, they heard the unmistakable rustling and snapping of twigs of someone walking towards them.

Harry tensed up as a shape walked out of the trees, hunched over and limping.

Beside him he could feel Rosier relax. "See? He's hardly a threat."

But Harry recognized the face in the dim light and did not think enough words existed to convey just how wrong he was.

"I need your help," Grindelwald said.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the bright side my unplanned hiatus gave me lots of time to figure some stuff out and I have at least a feeling in which direction this story needs to go from here on so... fingers crossed the next updates will come faster. Don't quote me on that.
> 
> Cya :)


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OnceagainsorryforthewaitbutatleastImadeitundertwomonthshahaHowarepeoplestillreadingthisficyoumusthavethepatienceofbuddha
> 
> Thank you so much for your reviews :)!  
> Enjoy :)

 

"Okay, nope," Harry said, vehemently shaking his head. "You are _not_ supposed to be here."

There should have been a thousand thoughts going through his mind. But in that moment there was only one thing he could focus on clearly. If Grindelwald, walking proof of immortality, was here, _here_ at Hogwarts, then…

_Riddle._

"I-"

"Oh no, no, you don't get to talk," he interrupted. "Is Slytherin with you? Are you helping him now? Do you get a kick out of ruining what life I have left?"

_Riddle can't know, he can't know, he cannot know._

"Hold on, what?" Rosier asked.

"Rosier do you have a weapon?"

Rosiersquinted at him. "The guy is basically dead. And old."

"Not what I was asking."

Rosier sighed and leisurely readied his bow. "Why do we hate him again?"

"Weapons aren't exactly efficient with me," Grindelwald finally managed to say.

Rosier let out a disbelieving short laugh. "The fuck is that supposed to-?"

"It still slows you down doesn't it?" Harry pointed out.

"You think I came here to hurt you?"

Harry blinked at him. "YES!"

"Ah," Grindelwald made, pausing awkwardly. "Well… I'm not."

"Great," Harry drawled, "No really, that convinced me, yeah let's have some tea shall we? Drink to the good old days? You know, when you _hunted_ me?"

Grindelwald's lips twitched but didn't quite make it into a smile due to his exhaustion. "I need your help."

"Why in the everloving _fuck_ would I-"

"I want to die."

Since leaving London, there had been many moments where Harry had been stunned speechless. However none quite compared to that instance.

"You want to _what_?"

"I think you heard me."

"You don't-…You don't get to just _die_ ," Harry pressed out, barely holding in his anger. "Do you even know how many people you killed to have that life? Because I can only take a guess. You turned the world upside down and now you just want to take the easy way out? You've got to be kidding me! If there's a shred of humanity left in you, _you live your life_. You owe them that much."

Grindelwald considered him for a moment, then took a few painful steps towards them. Rosier strained his bow, but was obviously unsure what to do.

Without having the trees to hold on to, Grindelwald made for a pitiful figure. But Harry knew that state was only temporary.

"Tell me Harry Potter," Grindelwald wheezed. "Are you really angry because of strangers' lives lost? Or is it because you think it's unfair that I get to live while you are dying?"

Rosier's eyes flickered nervously between them.

"This is not about me," Harry said crossly, then narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "How did you even know that?"

"Oh but it is," Grindelwald smiled grimly, ignoring his question. "If we find out how I can die… We find out how you can live."

Harry crossed his arms in front of him defensively. "You are wasting your time. There is no cure. I know."

Grindelwald huffed out a laugh. "Has it ever occurred to you that you're not _the_ smartest?"

Harry gritted his teeth, annoyed. He never had considered himself smarter than everyone. But his blackout had shown him no cure and he had never been wrong before in that state.

"It cannot be reversed," he insisted.

"Maybe you searched in the wrong direction. You sought to reverse the effect, but maybe it's not that at all. Not a reversal, but something new entirely, something that nullifies the effects."

"If you _knew_ how to do it, you obviously wouldn't be here. You're relying on some vague faith alone. Why are you so convinced that exists?"

"Because I knew Flamel. I told you he was dead. A bit odd isn't it? To create immortality, but not wanting it for themselves? But that's just the man he was. Curious about the science behind it, but wary of the permanent state it would result in. He wouldn't have created that stone without a way to terminate its effects."

"Stone?"

"Yes the serum. He compressed it."

"Where is it now?"

"I ate it."

Harry stared at him. "And then what? Does it dissolve? Did you…digest it?"

"I wasn't exactly interested in the specifics back then."

"Well maybe you should have been," he snapped angrily.

"Flamel's manuscripts got lost in the chaos, but Slytherin's whole interest in you stems from the fact that you've seen it. Do you remember?"

"Not the parts you'd want to know now."

"But the formula for the creation?" Grindelwald pressed.

"Yes," Harry answered reluctantly.

"I would strongly advise you not to tell him that."

Harry snorted. "Yeah no shit. I don't exactly plan to talk to him ever again."

"Make sure you don't. He can be very… _persuasive_ ," Grindelwald grimaced and rubbed his chest.

Harry exhaled loudly and made to turn away. "Well, nice talking to you, but I honestly don't know why you'd think I'd help you."

"So you're just going to sit around and wait for your death?" Grindelwald called after him. "Besides, I know you wish me dead, no matter what you think my responsibilities are."

"Now that I know you want to die, I kind of like the idea of you living an eternity," Harry remarked, resolutely walking away.

"Do you have nothing to live for?"

It was perhaps the only combination of words that could have stopped Harry.

_Riddle._

Damn it.

Grindelwald must have noticed his hesitation because he pressed on. "And you're satisfied with taking open questions to your grave? I know you're still missing some answers, I bet I have almost all of them."

Harry took a deep breath and slowly turned back. "I might know where Flamel's research ended up."

"Where?"

Harry frowned. "As if I would tell you. As soon as Slytherin gets his hands on anyone with that information we're doomed."

"Slytherin didn't send me."

"Maybe not directly, but he let you go didn't he? He knows what you want. He knows you would come to me. He knows you would lead him directly to the source."

"If he did somehow follow me then it's better for you to move away from here anyways," Grindelwald argued. "Besides, he's not omnipotent. And it's our only chance."

Harry continued to stare at him, quietly seething with anger. There were many reasons why he hated Grindelwald. But right now the most prominent one was that the man had thoughtlessly forced hope onto Harry.

He hadn't even known that he wanted to hope. He had thought he had made peace.

"Ooookay," Rosier drawled into the silence. "Can anyone tell me what the _hell_ is going on?

Harry sighed. The last thing he had wanted was to drag more people into his mess. Apparently he was doomed to fail in the things that were really important to him.

"C'mon then, there's someone else we need to talk to."

 

* * *

 

He had almost hoped that Ron wouldn't be there. Alas the redhead opened the door just seconds after his knock.

They had left Grindelwald in the forest, since bringing in a stranger would have immediately led to questions from anyone that saw them.

Harry assumed he had no reason to run. In fact, Harry would have preferred if he disappeared.

"So you know all that strange stuff I told you about the chaos?" he asked without greeting Ron.

"Uhm…yeah?"

"It's going to get a whole lot crazier."

He had never wanted to tell another soul about it. Now he was re-telling it not only to Ron, but also to Rosier. Maybe, he was past the point of caring.

In the end Ron took it a lot better than expected. For Rosier on the other hand, this was the first time he even heard about the guild. The man looked like he would either throw up or laugh hysterically any second now.

"You're kidding right? Please tell me this is a joke?"

"No joke."

"And lord Voldemort doesn't know?"

Harry shrugged. "He knows parts of it."

"Jesus," Rosier pressed out. "I should leave the country. Russia sounds nice. I know no one has crossed oceans since the chaos started, but you could build me something right?"

"You want to run?" Ron asked, sounding offended.

"I want to survive," Rosier clarified. "Bloody hell, guys, do you know how crazy all that shit sounds?"

"You can turn around and forget I ever told you anything," Harry said. "But I don't have that option. The crazy shit is literally my life."

"Where you go, I go," Ron said determined. "I've memorized the whole layout of the fortress, I'd say there isn't a hidden room I don't know about."

Rosier groaned. "Oh fuck, now you're making me feel bad."

"Besides," Ron continued. "If your suspicion is true then Flamel's research and the books Hermione was talking about are the same thing. She died for that knowledge. If it can save you… Maybe it wasn't for nothing."

Rosier let out a frustrated huff. "Look, all I'm saying is that you have a serious problem if your plan involves _me_ as the only adult. The old vampire geezer in the woods doesn't count."

"He's not a-"

"I'm trying to make him _less_ creepy okay?"

"We're adults," Ron pointed out.

Rosier waved him away. "Lost-generations don't count either."

"Whatever, we've got someone on our side who's plenty responsible," Harry said.

Rosier looked suspicious. "Who?"

Instead of answering Harry stood up and left the room. The other two hastily followed.

He led them down to the dungeons and knocked on Snape's door.

"You can't be serious," Rosier deadpanned. " _Snape_ is in on this?! He's the most loyal follower Voldemort has apart from Bella!"

"He's also very good at keeping secrets," Harry said.

"I'm starting to wonder who _isn't_ ," Rosier grumbled.

Snape opened the door just enough to peek out. He quickly scanned their faces and scowled. "I already don't like the setup."

Harry tried for a smile. "Let us in? Please?"

"I don't like the sound of it either," Snape said sourly, but opened the door enough for them to step in.

Snape's room looked as immaculately tidy as always. There wasn't really somewhere for them all to sit, but he hadn't come here to get comfortable. They just needed to be out of earshot.

Snape clearly knew that instinctively and threw a cautious glance at the empty corridor before firmly closing the door. "What have you done now, Potter?"

"It wasn't me this time!" Harry protested.

Snape didn't look convinced in the slightest. "What do you need from me then? And what are they doing here?" he nodded to Ron and Rosier.

"They know. Uhm… All of it."

"Do they now?" Snape said slowly and eyed the two. Both of them looked rather uncomfortable. "Yes I suppose they do. Which brings me back to my first question."

"We kind of need you to cover for us."

"Cover," Snape echoed.

"Yes, I kind of have to…go. Just for a while!" he explained hurriedly. "We'll be back in no time."

"Cover," Snape repeated. "As in..?"

"Well, you know, not say anything? And uh, maybe…deflect…certain questions about our whereabouts? Stall for time?"

"You mean lying."

"I _guess_ ," Harry scratched his head sheepishly. "Oh also we're taking the train. The tracks we have to use are clear now. It won't take long."

Snape looked at him blankly. "You want me to stand here…and lie to Voldemort's face…while you're stealing his train."

"Just borrowing," Harry objected. "But yes, basically."

"You are insane."

Rosier laughed drily. "What else is new?"

Harry glared at both of them. "You don't know where we're going or why, you're mostly innocent!"

"Mostly," Rosier snickered.

Snape let out a long suffering sigh. "You realize you could just ask him."

"Riddle wouldn't let me go, you know that," Harry argued.

"Do I?" Snape wondered, his eyebrows rising sceptically. "Because you see, you've gotten away with everything else so far. Are you sure the person he is and the person you _think_ he is are still the same?"

"He would ask questions!"

"Oh my, imagine the horror. Whatever do people do when asked questions?"

Harry was about to deliver a heated reply, but a commotion and a familiar hooting above their heads gave him pause.

"Is that your bird? To whom did you send her?"

He had sent Hedwig to Moody because she was the only way to contact the resistance and they desperately needed their help. But in the end it didn't matter who she brought with, it would immediately alert Riddle. If they wanted to disappear with a headstart, they needed to go now.

"Anyways, thanks Snape," he said and hurriedly left the room, Ron and Rosier close on his heels.

"I did not agree to anything! Potter!" Snape called and to Harry's dismay actually followed them out and up the stairs to the entrance hall.

More and more people from Voldemort's group were starting to crowd the hall, surrounding the newcomers. However, it wasn't Moody or Aberforth standing there with Hedwig on their shoulders. It was Luna.

"I said, identify yourself!" Bellatrix yelled at her, but Luna ignored her in favour of petting Hedwig.

"Woah, easy, I know her," Harry said quickly and wormed his way through the people to the front.

"Yeah careful Bella, that's one girl you don't want to mess with," Rosier agreed, eyeing Luna warily.

Bellatrix arched an eyebrow at him and Rosier shrugged apologetically. "Uh well, actually _you_ might… Ugh, nah I don't even want to think about that."

"Hello Harry," Luna smiled.

"Uhm, hi? I did not write you."

They had wanted to contact Luna of course, as they were fairly certain she would be on their side. But with her base still a mystery they had no way of finding her.

"No, but your owl found me," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "She still has the letter addressed to someone else, but I think she wanted to bring me here first."

Hedwig hooted again, then stretched her wings and took off.

"I guess she'll deliver it now," Luna said. "So, shall we go somewhere more comfortable?"

She confidently turned in the direction of the great hall and Harry couldn't help but think that she walked around Hogwarts like she'd spent her whole life in the castle.

"Actually," Harry spoke up. "I'm sorry, but I really need to go."

"Oh, I see," Luna said easily. "Is it terribly urgent?"

"Well, I just really need to leave before Rid- I mean, lord Voldemort-…"

The rest of the sentence got stuck in his throat because _of course_ Riddle just had to arrive right then.

"Lady Luna," Riddle greeted pleasantly, "I'm so glad you will join us. You came just in time for dinner. Harry, why don't you show your friend around beforehand?"

Harry stood there, rooted to the spot, desperately trying to come up with any kind of excuse that would allow him to slip away.

"Sadly Harry has to leave us for a while," Luna said and Harry's heart stumbled.

"Really? What for?" Riddle fixed Harry with a questioning look.

Meanwhile Harry was calculating the odds of the ground opening up spontaneously underneath him. They were depressingly small.

"I'm sending him on an errand," Luna informed the two equally confused men.

"With us!" Ron piped up and dragged a hesitant Rosier with him to the front.

Luna nodded. "With them."

"An errand?" Riddle asked suspiciously. "What kind of errand? Why them?"

Luna smiled brilliantly. "Because I say so."

Riddle's eyes widened in disbelief and Harry could almost see his brain trying to come up with a suitable response that wouldn't insult their ally.

Not wanting to miss the opportunity, Harry grabbed the other two and hastily turned around. "Okay bye!"

" _Harry_ -" Riddle began warningly, but the three of them had already started running and the lord couldn't very well pursue them with another lady standing in front of him.

To everyone's surprise it was Snape that shouted after them. "Potter!"

Harry reluctantly slowed down a bit and glanced over his shoulder.

"Don't read them," Snape said. "You can't risk a blackout."

So he'd pieced it together then. Harry had thought that maybe if Snape didn't know where or why they were going, he at least wouldn't have to lie about that to Voldemort. But the man was entirely too clever for his own good.

Riddle was already looking at Snape menacingly. "What are you-"

"Won't you show me around, lord Voldemort?" Luna asked, sounding perfectly gullible.

Harry could practically hear Riddle grating his teeth all the way from the other side of the hall as he sprinted out of Hogwarts.

They stepped out into the cool evening air and proceeded to run down the hill.

"Can't she come with us?" Rosier complained. "I'd feel a lot safer."

"She seemed nice," Ron agreed.

Rosier threw him an incredulous look. "If you had seen what I saw buddy, you'd use different words."

"We're not going into enemy territory," Harry interjected. "The Baron's land is now controlled by lady Ravenclaw, she's our ally."

"Uh-huh, that's what I thought about Slytherin," Rosier said, unconvinced. "And at this point I'm more worried about what will happen to us once we come back. Honestly lordling, you're taking 'living on the edge' to a whole new level."

"How can you live on an edge?" Ron asked.

Rosier rolled his eyes. "I swear you lost-generations are hopeless."

They stopped shortly to catch their breaths at the end of the slope.

"Okay. Rosier, you get Grindelwald. Ron and me will start the train."

"Why do I have to get the creepy dude," Rosier mumbled, but jogged in the direction of the forest.

Harry and Ron made their way to the train in the last light of the day.

"Last time Bellatrix locked me into the storage coach," Ron shuddered. "I do hope it will be more comfortable this time around."

"Ron," Harry sighed, "Comfort is the last thing I would expect from this mess."

 

* * *

 

Severus thought there was something rather comical about lord Voldemort sullenly entertaining a lady half his size who conveniently changed topics every time Harry came up.

It was clear the sudden departure of Potter had shaken Voldemort enough that he couldn't even bring himself turn on his usual charm anymore. It was also clear that lady Luna was in fact neither interested in their farming strategies, nor in the number of forks they possessed, but she kept asking Voldemort pointless things anyways.

The lord's attention for the evening was obviously split into three. A third to keep up the polite conversation with the lady, a third doubtlessly wondering about Potter and a third…

Severus sighed as narrowed red eyes once again landed on him. A third was used to glare daggers at him.

He was therefore entirely unsurprised to find himself summoned to his study after dinner.

"Speak," Voldemort hissed.

"He came to me just minutes before lady Luna arrived. I don't know where they went or why, my lord."

A glass shattered on the wall next to Severus' head. "I'm supposed to believe that? Do you take me for a fool?"

Severus kept his expression blank. "Potter also said that he would take the train."

"He did what?!"

Voldemort's anger was always formidable. However this time it was only half as intimidating as usual, since most of his outcry seemed to stem from confused worry.

"He mentioned using tracks that were already cleared. If that is true then he either went to London or somewhere near where the Baron's territory was. Either way he seems hardly in danger," Severus spoke calmly.

"And why would he want to do that?"

"I do not know, my lord."

Voldemort barked out a dry laugh. "Try again."

Severus contemplated his options for a split second. There wasn't much he could do. At this point it would be dangerous for him if Voldemort realized that he had known all along. On the other hand he had never promised Harry to keep any of his secrets.

In his personal experience, the boy's stubborn determination to leave Voldemort completely in the dark would end up hurting both. But Severus certainly didn't want to be the one to break that message to his lord.

"I believe he is searching for books."

"What kind of books?" Voldemort immediately asked.

"I don't know," Severus answered honestly.

He had merely been in the same room when Harry had searched frantically for some books. He knew they had something to do with his condition. But he didn't actually know what they were about, or why Harry needed to get them so urgently that he risked revealing everything.

Severus wasn't entirely sure if he was relieved not to be involved more, or angry because Potter chose not to tell him.

"But you suspect," Voldemort pressed on.

"I would never relay anything to you that isn't fact, my lord."

Voldemort was fuming. Severus knew the only reason why he wasn't lashing out was because his rage wasn't actually directed at him, but at the fact that he had no way to obtain the information he wanted.

"The only reason why you're still alive," Voldemort hissed coldly, "Is because Harry likes you."

No, the only reason he was still alive was because Tom liked Harry enough to care about what the boy liked. But Snape suspected that now was not a good time to rub _feelings_ into Voldemort's face.

"Kept alive by James Potter's son, how does that feel?" Voldemort asked gleefully.

Snape remained stoic. "He's also Lily's."

Voldemort clicked his tongue derisively. "If you know him so well, tell me, _why_. He does not enjoy scheming. Then why does he insist on doing everything behind my back?"

Severus was momentarily baffled. He was used to Harry underestimating the connection between them. He had not thought Voldemort would be equally blind to it.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably, not quite believing he was having that conversation. Potter definitely owed him now.

"My lord, do you remember why you specifically instructed me not to tell him about Rowle?"

"He did not need to know. It would have only hurt him, he's so easily agitated and prone to needless worry." Voldemort paused and narrowed his eyes. "Is this payback? Revenge? To show me how he felt out of spite?"

By the gods, their future leaders were both idiots.

"No my lord. I believe he's acting that way for much the same reasons as you did."

There was a beat of silence while the realization washed over Voldemort's face.

"He's trying to _protect_ me?" Voldemort spat incredulous. "He's trying to protect _me_?"

"Well-…"

Voldemort began pacing in agitation. "That's ridiculous! Preposterous to even suggest I needed-… The insolence of that boy! It's absurd!"

" _That_ ," Snape said heavily, "Is Harry Potter."

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you asked for a summary for the who-is-doing-what-why mess that happened in this story. I tried to list some important points and it turned out rather long oops:
> 
> The guild (Dumbledore, Grindelwald, Flamel (Scrimegeour, the Baron…)): started the chaos. Most of them believed a drastic reform was the only way forward. The higher-ups knew it was because they were trying to create immortality and they needed a lot of dead people for that.
> 
> The resistance (Moody, Aberforth…): know that the chaos didn't just happen, but was orchestrated by the guild. They can see that the new society is rigged and most lords in power are affiliated with the guild. Those that aren't are either not powerful enough or are being eliminated. They are hoping that harry can bring them together to take a stand against the guild.
> 
> The guild vs. Harry: Dumbledore wanted to slowly kill baby harry (pills) because the tragedy of that would have stopped Lily. harry became a symbol of hope for the resistance after his mother's death. Even through the chaos they hunted him (and the Weasleys because they protected him). Most of the guild just want him dead because he could rally the resistance and challenge their authority, only very few know that he was also used to test immortality. Flamel's serum interfered with the lingering effects of the pills and created harry's peculiar condition. Upon receiving it they thought him dead, until Dumbledore met him in London again.
> 
> Slytherin: wants to become immortal and through Grindelwald knows that harry is the only one that knows how. He used the confusion caused by Grindelwald's absence as a leader and has taken over parts of the guild. Since most of the less important members don't really know what's going on or who is involved, Slytherin has led them to fight each other. He's basically screwing everyone over.
> 
> Gryffindor: has nothing to do with any of that, but he's under attack from Slytherin as bait for harry.
> 
> Voldemort: wanted revenge for his mother and, upon learning about the guild, wants to destroy them and take over (the world, naturally). The guild considered him too powerful and knew he had harry, so they tried to deceive him and sent him to challenge the Baron, one of their own, convinced they would die. Instead he survived and basically declared war, because he knows an open fight is the only way he could ever hope to defeat the guild. He knows about harry's importance for the resistance, but not about immortality or the full scope of his condition.
> 
> Hope this helps!  
> Cya :)


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No your eyes do not deceive you. 'Tis I, risen from the dead to give you this chapter. The power of fanfiction has disturbed my slumber once again.
> 
> Do I even need to say thank you anymore, because it is quite obvious at this point that you are the best and most resilient of readers.
> 
> Enjoy :)

 

 

"Can I just say that I think this is the stupidest idea ever - and that's saying something, because I thought about fucking Lord Voldemort's lover?" Rosier looked around expectantly.

Ron grimaced, Grindelwald looked mildly interested.

"We're not actually-… That's not-" Harry sputtered.

"Seriously, _that's_ where you take offense?" Ron asked him.

"Does that mean I still have a chance?" Rosier winked at Harry.

"Can we just focus?" Harry gritted out.

He shovelled some more coals into the engine, silently thanking Riddle's perfectionistic nature for keeping an ample supply of everything they could need in case of a spontaneous journey.

They stood crammed together in the engine coach, since someone had to tend to the engine anyways and no one felt particularly inclined to let Grindelwald out of their sight.

"I'm just saying," Rosier continued, "I get a bit worried whenever I feel like the sanest person in the room."

"You're not," Harry objected. "Ron is."

Rosier eyed Ron sceptically. "He spent months infiltrating the Baron's stronghold to get his friend back. Anyone that can lie that well is suspicious to me."

"How is our dear Baron?" Grindelwald asked.

"He's dead," Harry replied blankly.

"Ah."

"You didn't know?"

"I wasn't exactly in the position to keep myself up to date."

Rosier whistled. " _La révolution dévore ses propres enfants_."

Ron frowned. "What was that?"

"The French. They did the bloody revolution thingy before it was cool."

"We were not trying to _be_ anything," Grindelwald said. "We fought for humanity."

"By killing it off?" Harry asked sceptically.

"They would have died anyways. You weren't there. None of you were."

Rosier raised his hand. "Hey I was-"

"A snotty-nosed teenager I imagine," Grindelwald finished.

"Touché."

"None of you have any idea what it was like living back then. Always just one step away from the next catastrophe, the next war. Everyone going about their business in a terrified stupor, just waiting for the inevitable. Closing their eyes to the millions that weren't as lucky as them, starving already next to them."

"My mother-"

"Was a genius. Surprisingly she genuinely meant well, I do believe that. But who do you think would have reaped the profit of her invention? Resources have always been power. Do you think the government would have just handed it out to everyone for free?"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "To avoid the complete breakdown of civilisation? Yes."

"Uh, I hate to say it, but he's got a point."

Harry and Ron both turned to Rosier, who shook his head at their confused faces.

"Man, you lost-generations are really something else. Listen kids, you couldn't imagine half of the things capitalistic corporations did regularly back then."

"What the hell are-"

"Nevermind," Rosier sighed. "Look. You think lords get drunk on their power while controlling their group? They have, what, a few dozen people working for them? Before the chaos, whole countries could be run by one person. Take them together and you realize a handful of people run the world and they weren't keen to give that up. The system doesn't exactly breed empathy."

"Oh and _this_ one does?" Harry asked angry.

"No," Grindelwald admitted. "It's far from optimal, but at least it distributes power."

Harry snorted. "Well I can't compare it to before, but all everyone is ever doing here is grab for more power."

"Yes," Grindelwald said tiredly, eyes looking through the window unseeingly. "It appears to be human nature. We were foolish in our hope to change it."

He turned away from the window and looked at Harry instead. "It is easy to look back and judge the generations before you. Change has always been opposed and fought against. Yet if a movement is successful they call it justified, if not then the people behind it are monsters. We were so helpless. There seemed to be no future for anyone, humanity had reached its peak and began destroying itself, no hope of advancing further."

"And then Flamel came," Harry guessed.

"He had the answer to a question that was as old as life itself. The means to beat death. And suddenly there was hope."

"Yeah I'm sure all those dead people felt really hopeful," Rosier remarked drily.

"Don't you see?" Grindelwald asked. "The chaos was inevitable. And your mother's invention would have only given the rich the power to choose who gets to live. They would have never allowed her to use it as she wanted. All we did was control the timepoint of the onset and equalizing everyone's chances of survival by letting nature choose, not money."

Harry frowned. "Well I guess we'll never know what could have happend, because you killed her."

"Look around you Harry Potter, we are all orphans in this new world."

Harry opened his mouth to give an angry retort, but before he could utter a word, Grindelwald made a gurgling sound and crumbled to the ground, a knife sticking out from his back. It took Harry a second to remember that Grindelwald would only be temporarily dead.

Ron wiped his bloody hand on his trousers. "Sorry, I just _really_ wanted to do that from the start."

Harry just gaped at him.

"Am I the sanest yet?" Rosier asked, discreetly stepping further away from Ron.

"Ron, he can't talk if he's dead!" Harry admonished his friend.

Ron shrugged, unapologetic.

Harry sighed and warily pulled the knife out of Grindelwald. A few seconds later the man's body lurched violently, startling the three others.

Rosier cursed loudly and got as far away from Grindelwald as possible, pressing himself to the opposite wall.

After a few rattling breaths Grindelwald started chuckling between his gasps.

"You are young. Full of ideals. I was like that once. It is so easy to convince yourself that your following the right path."

He groaned and sat up, leaning heavily against the wall.

"It is also easy to dream up big plans of change without seeing its effects. We didn't know how bad it would be when it was just a concept. And at some point you can't doubt anymore. At some point you devote yourself to the goal. By all means necessary."

"You talk of change, but setting up the whole lord system with you in control is not grabbing for power?" Harry asked sceptically.

"It was supposed to be different. We never meant to rule them as the guild. No one was supposed to know we existed. We would set everything up in the shadows. Just in the beginning, to get things started. To help." Grindelwald exhaled loudly. "Stupid. So stupid. Everyone thinks that if they could rule things would get better for everyone."

He pointed at Harry warningly. "Careful with your lord, boy-who-lived. He is exactly what we were at the start."

"He's not."

"Denial won't-"

"He's worse in a way," Harry interrupted. "He does not blind himself with delusional ideals like you did, he is capable of being cruel without needing a justification."

Grindelwald tilted his head in thought. "I'm not sure if that makes him worse or better than us."

"He grew up during the chaos, you can't compare him to you, you lived in a different world," Rosier said.

"We are all just the sums of our circumstances," Grindelwald said wistfully.

"Do you want me to stab you again?" Ron asked annoyed. "You don't get to shift the blame like that. I don't care what kind of plans you had for _change_ and _revolution_. You killed people so you could become immortal. As if their lives mattered less."

"We convinced ourselves that they did matter less."

"Excuse me?!"

"The strong survive, the weak die. Look at the history of our species. Humans could only ever thrive on the cost of others. What we were doing was not so different, but we did miscalculate just how many lives would be needed for a single stone. Our goal was to create a new humanity, but we almost ended up eradicating it completely."

"I guess we can't change anything that already happened," Harry said bitterly. "So tell us how to prevent it from happening again."

"Destroy immortality. Erase the very idea of it. Stop Slytherin from making the same mistake. And then maybe, maybe humanity can truly start over. We don't know if it will be better than before. But there's a chance."

"If Flamel figured it out then so can others," Harry pointed out.

Grindelwald shook his head. "Flamel's breakthrough was the culmination of centuries of scientific research. People now don't have time to think about anything else than survive. The chaos has rewound the clock, giving us time until we will again reach our peak. Maybe this time around humanity will choose a different path. But only if people like Slytherin are stopped."

"And people like Voldemort, you mean," Harry added.

"Does he love you?"

Harry sputtered. "Don't be silly-"

"Yes," Rosier and Ron said at the same time.

Grindelwald smiled. "Then there's a tiny hope yet."

"Tiny?" Ron asked.

Grindelwald shrugged. "People mistake the power of love. It's not the monster's capability _to_ love that saves it. It's to _be_ loved that changes it."

Harry glared at the three faces turned towards him and folded his arms uncomfortably in front of him.

"Why are you all looking at me like that?"

Rosier laughed. "I respect our lord. Mixed with a good dose of healthy fear, mind you. But only someone who's insane could actually fall for that guy."

Harry frowned darkly. "Yes well. If I am insane then it's you I have to thank for, isn't it?" he asked Grindelwald.

"I honestly have no idea what happened. You were supposed to be a test run and we fully expected it to succeed. Instead you…" Grindelwald trailed off, searching for words, then shrugged. "Well…you died."

"I died?" Harry echoed. He didn't know why these things still sounded so absurd to him. He had done exactly that just a while ago after all.

"When I saw you again as you visited Slytherin, I thought at first that maybe you just had an unexpected initial reaction to the elixir. But that wouldn't explain why you continued to age. So I thought it might not have worked at all. But _that_ doesn't add up with the guild's conviction that you're dying."

"Did you know my father?"

"If I remember correctly he joined the guild briefly, at the very beginning."

"So you don't know about the pills?"

"What pills?"

Harry shook his head. "Forget it. I know _why_ I am the way I am. I just didn't know what happened for the guild to stop pursuing me and then being so surprised when I showed up alive after the chaos."

He must have died pretty convincingly. Then again, he had died convincingly enough for Snape and Riddle. How weird to think that the condition that was now killing him had saved him in the first place. But he decided that keeping a list of all the instances when he should have died would be pointless, seeing as these seemed to occur much too frequent.

"I suppose you don't feel inclined to share your knowledge?" Grindelwald guessed.

"No. Dumbledore knew, at least parts of it. In fact he's responsible for my weird condition."

"Dumbledore and me had a falling out. I've lost contact during the chaos and haven't talked to him since. How is he?"

"He's dead."

"Ah," Grindelwald repeated. "He only ever got his hands on the unfinished product."

"I gathered as much."

"Without me, him or Flamel the guild has no original leader left. If Slytherin is stopped I imagine they would dissolve naturally, they are far too unstructured to persist. That's what we intended in the first place."

"And everyone lived happily ever after," Rosier said, rolling his eyes. "It doesn't solve his problem now does it?" He pointed to Harry.

"You are dying because of the elixir that should have rendered you immortal."

"Partially," Harry agreed. "How did you know?"

"I guessed."

" _What_?" Harry exclaimed.

They had after all started this whole mission in the belief that Grindelwald knew what he was talking about.

"I've broken off most contact with the guild for years now, but I still kept my eyes on them. I was surprised how little concern they showed when you appeared alive and well in London. They are convinced you are dying and thus their problem will solve itself. Some merely thought it prudent to get rid of you sooner, rather than wait it out. Especially since you seem to have made contact with the resistance."

"Yes but how did they know what I only discovered quite recently?"

"The Baron knew," Ron piped up. "And whatever information he has on Flamel's research must also encompass some comment about Harry's state, because Hermione knew too."

Harry looked at him astonished. Ron hadn't brought this up before. "She did?"

"Well she told me to help you… It's possible she meant that, no?"

"I can't wait to get my hands on these books," Harry murmured. He was convinced that he would only find a semblance of peace once he'd seen these magical equations and formulas that would explain this new abnormal world they lived in.

"Snape said you shouldn't open them," Rosier pointed out.

Harry remained silent while he shovelled another load of coals into the engine. With everything vague and confusing around him, there was only one thing he knew with certainty.

There was no way he could simply continue to _not_ know.

 

* * *

 

"What do you mean Harry isn't here?" Sirius demanded.

Lord Voldemort gritted his teeth. "I meant exactly what I said."

Sirius gave Remus an incredulous look before turning back to their new host. "Well when is he coming back?"

"I can't say."

"How can you not know?" Sirius asked accusingly. "You're his lord are you not?"

"It seems so," Voldemort pressed out.

Remus decided to intervene before his friend got himself killed and gently tugged Sirius back.

"Why is he not here?" he asked the other lord mildly.

Voldemort exhaled harshly. "Because he ran out of here, refused to tell me why or where he was going and stole my train."

The assembled members, lords and ladies in the hall held their breaths at his displeased tone.

Eventually Sirius turned back to Remus, apparently unaffected. "Sounds like Harry. I was worried for a sec there."

Remus smiled. "Doesn't seem like he changed much."

"Good."

"He _stole_ my train," Voldemort repeated.

"I taught him well," Sirius grinned.

Voldemort started to look murderous again and Remus discreetly steered Sirius away, giving the other arriving groups a chance to talk to their host. Though most of them chose not to engage him, subconsciously repelled by the malicious dark cloud that seemed to have enveloped the man.

After making sure Sirius was safely away and distracted for now, Remus approached the lord again.

"I'm sure he's fine."

"I wasn't worried," Voldemort snapped back.

"And I know he'll be back as soon as possible."

"You should tell that to your impatient friend. I don't care," Voldemort insisted and walked away, the masses parting in front of him.

Remus frowned worriedly, then noticed Severus Snape staring at him.

"Yes," the man answered his unspoken question in a resigned tone. "They are hopeless."

 

* * *

 

"Rise and shine, lordling. We're here."

Harry startled awake with a curse. "Fuck. I didn't mean to fall asleep."

They had set up a schedule so only one person would be asleep while the other two could still watch Grindelwald. It hadn't been Harry's turn yet today.

He quickly looked around, his heartbeat only calming when he saw Grindelwald still sitting in his corner, unthreateningly.

"You needed it."

Harry glanced from Rosier to Ron and back. "None of you did."

"We are _normal_. I'm starting to think of it as a special kind of superpower."

"So," Ron asked, "how are we going to do this?"

He opened the doors of the train with one decisive motion. They were greeted with at least a dozen people standing outside, staring at them distrustfully.

"Uh," Ron said and glanced behind him to the others.

"It is customary to send a warning before barging in unannounced," a woman spoke up.

Harry quickly got up and went to the doors.

"How did you know we were here?" Ron asked.

She raised an eyebrow. "You literally drove a whole train into my territory. It's not exactly a subtle way to travel. You can count yourself lucky that I recognized it, or this encounter would not be quite as civil."

She looked past Ron and focused on Harry. "You must be Harry."

"Lady Ravenclaw? I heard we're allies."

"Is it your groups fault that my friend Godric is surrounded? Because that might change some things."

"Uh, no. That's kind of my personal fault. Sorry," Harry said sheepishly. "But I could really use your help?"

She looked back at Ron, amused. "I was told he's smart."

Rosier laughed and jumped down the train to bow in front of Ravenclaw. "Our apologies, he doesn't specialize in humans. And he gets into trouble constantly."

"Yes your lord complained about that."

Harry bristled at that, but both Ravenclaw and Rosier were grinning so he bit his tongue.

"We could use your help though, nothing too troubling I assure you," Rosier continued, then pointed at Grindelwald. "Also if this guy makes a wrong move just kill him. It's not permanent."

Understandably, the people looked at them as if they were crazy. Ravenclaw merely looked faintly intrigued.

Harry decided to say something before any of them had enough time to ponder about Rosier's strange statement. "How do you know lord Gryffindor?"

"We go a long way back," Ravenclaw answered wistfully. "If it is your fault will you take responsibility for his situation?"

"Voldemort is organizing a…uh…coalition, so to speak, to help him."

The lady scoffed. "Boy, I am a rather excellent judge of character and I highly doubt your lord would do anything to help anyone."

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, granted, it's not exactly his _goal_ \- but it is a desirable side-effect of the mission."

"Well said," Ravenclaw chuckled. "How is it your fault?"

"Slytherin has no interest in Gryffindor, he wants me."

Ravenclaw frowned. "What does Slytherin hope to achieve? Surely there are more direct ways to get you?"

"Mayhem," Grindelwald stated simply, before Harry had a chance to answer.

All of them turned to look at him questioningly.

His expression darkened. "Breaking down the system, turning everyone against each other, turmoil, confusion… Does anything sound familiar to you?"

"He wants another chaos," Ravenclaw said slowly. "Why?"

"It worked for us," Grindelwald muttered, low enough so only Harry and Ron standing right beside him could hear him.

"Does it matter?" Rosier asked back, before their silence told Ravenclaw more than she needed to know. "I think we can all agree that he needs to be stopped."

Ravenclaw eyed them for a long time, but eventually relented. "Very well, what do you need?"

"First of all," Harry said, shoving Grindelwald off the train and into the assembled group. "Please incarcerate him."

"That was not our deal!" protested Grindelwald, as two of Ravenclaw's members gripped him.

"Did you honestly expect me to believe that after everything you would _help_ me?" Harry asked incredulously.

"This is bigger than you Harry Potter. If we do not destroy Flamel's research then humanity will forever lust after immortality."

Harry crossed his arms in front of him. "I never said I wouldn't destroy it. I just don't trust you."

"His research includes _you_ ," Grindelwald emphasized. "You and me. We are the living products."

Oh.

Harry hadn't really thought about that. Without Flamel's research nobody would be able to create another stone, but if the rumours persisted then the hunger for its power would eventually lead people to them. In a way, as long as they existed Flamel's research lived on. And with it the toxic hope of immortality, no matter the cost.

"We need to die," Harry whispered.

Grindelwald stared at him intently. "To give humanity the best chance, everyone who knows about us should die."

"Woah, okay, let's not get ahead of ourselves here," Rosier interrupted with a nervous laugh.

"Yeah we haven't even found anything yet," Ron agreed quickly. "So for all we know dying remains impossible for you."

"You do realize you all sound insane, yes?" Ravenclaw asked.

Harry sighed. "Take him away."

With one last tense look at him, Grindelwald let himself be dragged away without resistance.

"We have no reason to keep him alive," Rosier argued. "If we do find something, we will kill him, agreed?"

"Let's just find these books," Harry said tiredly.

"I _hate_ those stupid books," Ron muttered darkly.

"I believe your lord already took the books in the fortress with him," Raveclaw said.

"He might have overlooked something. Did you find any more books when you searched the fortress more thoroughly?"

"A few. None of them seem to merit whatever crisis you appear to be having. You're free to check for yourself of course. I will go and prepare my group for departure in the meantime. If you are going to rescue Gryffindor then I'm with you."

"Thank you," Rosier said. "Lordling?"

Harry nodded. "Let's go. The sooner this is over the better."

They hurried towards the massive fortress. Harry couldn't help but feel awed at the thought of Riddle's small group invading the impregnable-looking stone walls.

He noticed Ron tensing up with every step that brought them closer to their destination.

"You okay?"

Ron shuddered. "I just never thought I'd come back _here_ of all places, you know?"

"I'm sorry."

Ron's expression softened. "It's not your fault. Please tell me you know none of this is your fault?"

"I do seem to be the epicentre of this whole mess."

"You were _placed_ in the epicentre. There's a difference."

Rosier grinned at them shrewdly. "Group hug?"

"Oh shut up," Harry scowled.

They entered the fortress through its massive front entrance and Ron took the lead from there on.

The building looked clean and well-kept, except for the massive hall in the middle that looked completely destroyed. Windows were broken, tapestries scorched, parts of the stone wall broken and the floor was still covered in black dust. A group of Ravenclaw's members was cleaning and repairing the hall, but their progress seemed slow.

Rosier whistled at the sight. "We sure missed all the action, huh?"

Harry snorted. "Bella's tales are more than enough for me."

It was clear that the Baron hadn't really cared for reading, as the library Ron eventually led them too was rather small compared to the large space available in the building. The handful of books that Riddle hadn't already taken were neatly stacked in a single row of a small shelf.

Disappointingly they were all fiction, without any mysterious notes scribbled inside them.

Harry huffed. "Why can't it be easy for _once_?"

"You know," Ron began thoughtfully, "I wonder if they discovered the hidden rooms? There are a bunch of false walls in this building, only the higher members of the Baron's group knew about."

Harry cursed under his breath. He had not the best experiences with hidden rooms and didn't fancy another one.

"Are there books?"

Ron nodded slowly. "I remember at least two rooms that were full of them. It's possible there are rooms that even I don't know about though."

It turned out that when Ron said full, he did mean literally _full_.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me," Rosier groaned, staring at the large piles of books filling the first room Ron revealed.

The books hadn't even been kept in shelves, rather they were just piled up into stacks, some reaching up to the ceiling while others had collapsed haphazardly.

"No this actually makes a lot of sense," Harry thought out loud. "Just like they were hiding their killings in a chaos of bloodshed, Flamel might have used the same strategy. Hide one book buried under hundreds of others."

"Yes well, I wasn't criticizing its _logic_ ," Rosier complained. "But this is going to take forever!"

Harry stared at the stacks, usually a sight that would have excited him greatly. "I don't see another way than…" he gestured to the books helplessly.

"Fantastic," Rosier sighed.

"Ron, you said there is at least one more? Like this?"

"Yeah very similar. I've always wondered why the Baron bothered to keep all those books when he didn't seem interested. I'm sure Hermione would have known where to search," he added sadly.

Harry rolled up his sleeves, determined. "Okay, you two go and search the other one, I'm staying here."

"What are we even supposed to look for?" Rosier muttered, but followed Ron out.

Harry wasn't sure either, but he was convinced he would know once he saw it. In any case, Rosier was right, skimming them all would take them days. He briefly considered asking for help from lady Ravenclaw and her group, but quickly discarded the idea. The less people knew about any of this the better.

The books in this room were also mostly fiction, though there were some textbooks as well and meaningless things like books full with names and addresses that didn't exist anymore. There were also a few manuals on specific electric devices that Harry itched to read, but ruefully had to discard with the others.

He was just starting on his third pile when a man entered behind him and Harry froze momentarily.

"Huh. Didn't even know there were more rooms," the man said, looking around impressed.

"Yeah…" Harry answered hesitantly, not wanting to explain himself or lose any more time. "Can I help you?"

The man narrowed his eyes and pulled out a gun, which he aimed at Harry. "Yes, you can come with me."

"Uh," Harry blinked, his grip on the current book tightening involuntarily. "You are a Ravenclaw member, we're allies!"

"Members, lords, groups. This system is a farce. Slytherin explained everything to me."

"Oh fuck me," Harry cursed.

"The guild are the only ones with true power and they transcend group membership. We are everywhere. You can't stop us."

"Slytherin is just using you!" Harry exclaimed, but the man seemed unfazed.

"He wishes that you come to him. He promises to call any future attacks off if you comply. No one else needs to die."

Harry chewed on his lower lip. Riddle was right, Slytherin knew _exactly_ what his weak points were. He hated the thought of an upcoming battle for his sake. He hated the thought of his friends risking their lives.

The man with the gun seemed only interested in taking him away and paid no attention to the books, so it was possible Slytherin was still unaware of the whereabouts of Flamel's research. He might still believe that Harry was the only way to obtain the formula and Harry would rather die than reveal it to him.

All in all, if Harry had to fall into Slytherin's hands, now was still the least disastrous timepoint.

Harry exhaled and placed the book back down. "Fine I-"

"You aren't actually contemplating that?" a new voice interrupted.

The man whirled around, but before he could fire his gun he was already crumbling to the floor, a wooden bolt sticking out from his ribs.

Harry's head jerked up and he was met with two identical grins.

"Need a hand?" the twins smirked.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Riddle as Mr. I-totally-don't-care-about-him-what-are-you-talking-about gives me so much life you don't even know.
> 
> Working on an update for Blurring Reality next! Because the update date of that story gives me mild panic attacks ahahhaha~
> 
> Let me know if you're still alive out there! Cya :)


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who did not see the little message on my profile: I was traveling for several months :). Japan, Greece, UK… I've been all over the place (except on this site, hah). It's kind of fitting that this is mostly a reunion chapter ;).
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

"We have to stop meeting like this," Harry said, after getting over his shock.

"Are you even trying to stay alive?" Fred asked, casually removing the bolt from the dead man's body.

"Because so far your track record isn't that great," George added.

"I'm still alive," Harry protested.

"Not last time we saw you," George countered.

"Your lord flipped out big time," Fred said. "Almost gave us a heart attack."

Harry sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry."

" _Was_ it our fault?" George asked, looking genuinely worried.

"No, no. Not really."

"Convincing."

"You just…triggered some memories that's all."

"And that leads to _death_?" Fred asked perplexed.

"It's a long story," Harry sighed. "Anyways, what are you doing here? Where have you been? How's Ginny?"

"She's getting better. Still doesn't speak much but…" George shrugged. "She likes London."

"You went to London?"

He shrugged again. "You gave us a lot to think about."

"We wanted to get in touch with this resistance you talked about," Fred chimed in, "but had no way of finding them."

"So instead we remembered your friends in London," George continued. "We thought if anything's about to go down, they would know since you'd be in the middle of it."

He gave the dead man a pointed look. "We weren't wrong."

"Nothing was happening for quite a while," Fred said.

Harry snorted. His point of view hadn't looked quite as peaceful.

"We grew impatient so we came to stalk you."

George chuckled. "Your train isn't exactly inconspicuous."

"And not that your little excursions across the countryside aren't amusing, but we gotta ask…" Fred began.

"… _What_ are you doing _here_?" George finished.

"I'm searching for a book," Harry answered.

Fred quirked an eyebrow, looking around the room. "Methinks you found one."

"Or a hundred," George added drily.

"Yeah…" Harry sighed, tossing another unpromising one into the corner. "A _specific_ one."

"Of course."

Before Harry could try to explain more, Rosier walked back in, closely followed by Ron.

Rosier squinted at the body. "Who's that? Is he dead? Why does this keep happening? And who-?" He broke off as he noticed the twins, blinking rapidly. "I swear I did not drink enough to see double."

Meanwhile Ron had frozen at the doorway, completely quiet except for a small surprised "Oh."

Harry once again found himself in the slightly embarrassing position of introducing estranged Weasleys. "Ah yes, uhm… I found Ron. Or rather he found me...Uh…"

There was an awkward silent pause while the three brothers stared at each other in shocked relief. Then the twins started grinning and slapping Ron on the back.

"He's handsome," Fred said.

"He clearly takes after me then," George joked.

They were obviously trying to sound light-hearted, but their voices were slightly too rough to cover up their emotions believably.

"You're shorter than me," Ron noticed dumbfounded.

The twins pretended to be awfully wounded by this.

Rosier offered a resigned shrug to the whole spectacle. "Oh great, family reunion, lovely. Anyone going to comment on the dead person at our feet? No? Okay."

"He tried to take me to Slytherin," Harry explained.

"I leave you alone for five minutes and you get kidnapped? Jeez. You are aware that I will die a slow and painful death if you don't make it back, aren't you?"

"Your worry, as always, is so altruistic it's heart-warming really."

"At least I do worry. Now we killed a member of lady Ravenclaw's group."

"He was a traitor!" Harry protested.

"You got any proof for that?"

Harry chose to ignore that sane-sounding question. "Why did you guys come back anyways?"

"Oh right. The other room was empty."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I think our own group found that one. The door was cut open in a suspiciously clean fashion."

"Have you seen those weird swords that cut through steel?" Ron asked the twins. "These people are crazy."

"Oh we know," the twins said in unison.

"How about we just pack the whole bunch up and look through them on the train ride back?" Rosier asked. "I don't like the idea of Slytherin's men secretly running around here."

"I'm pretty sure Slytherin's men are running around everywhere," Harry sighed. "Besides, we're waiting for Ravenclaw to be ready to join us anyways."

Rosier reluctantly picked up another book. "All hands on deck then."

"What deck?" Ron muttered confused.

"I think half of these weird expressions are just made up by him," Harry whispered.

"Listen you ungrateful lost boys," Rosier said and threw each of them a book. "You dragged me into this, so a little help would be appreciated."

The twins curiously stepped closer as well and haphazardly picked up some books. "What are we searching for again?"

"Immortality," Rosier answered straight-faced.

"Nice," the twins remarked drily. "Never a boring moment with you Harry, huh?"

The fact that they didn't ask any further questions spoke volumes about the unpredictability of their own lives.

The room didn't have any windows so it was hard to guess how long they searched through the piles. Even with five people flipping through the pages, the number of unchecked books seemed endless. The only reason why Harry still believed they would find Flamel's research here, was the fact that this was their one and only lead. There would be nothing left to try if this failed.

What eventually lead to its discovery was pure chance.

Harry was clumsy while slipping out a book from the next stack and it fell to the floor. Its cover fell off, revealing not one but two books. The thicker one was nothing but an endless list of long forgotten addresses, but as soon as Harry saw the harmless looking slim journal that had slipped out as well, he knew. There was not a single word on its blank leather cover and it couldn't be more than a hundred pages in all, but he knew.

He picked it up gingerly, and despite his overwhelming desire to read it in one go, he suddenly found himself unable to move.

"Harry?" Ron's voice sounded far away.

Harry hadn't been confronted with any new knowledge, and yet his attention was already completely focused, all thoughts beside the task at hand gone. He could almost feel his brain preparing itself to go into overdrive.

It took a monumental effort to tear his eyes away from the book in his hands.

"I think I found it," he said slowly.

Everyone stopped moving immediately and looked at him, which he had expected. However, he could have never anticipated their next actions.

"Ron?" Rosier asked in his serious tone, still unmoving.

"Yes."

"Ready?"

"Yes."

"Just like we discussed."

"Okay."

After the complete stillness in the room, their movements seemed lightning fast. Ron snatched the book out of Harry's grasp and jumped back just as quickly. And before Harry had even time to blink Rosier had grabbed him from behind, arms locked under his armpits.

"Wha-…What the _hell_..?"

He started to struggle out of reflex, almost slipping out of Rosier's grasp, but the twins were suddenly there as well, restricting his arms in an iron grip.

"Honestly we have no idea what's going on either," Fred said.

"We're just following their lead," George finished.

"I'd appreciate it if you could stop squirming," Rosier added.

"Have you all lost your minds?!"

"No. We're trying to prevent you from losing yours," Ron said.

"Doctor's orders," Rosier reminded him. "Snape said you might die if you read this."

"Again?" the twins groaned.

"I might die of a whole lot of things, including falling down the stairs. Let me go!" Harry demanded.

"I'm sorry Harry," Ron said quietly. "But I've already lost one person I care about to this stupid book. I'm not losing another one."

"That's-…That's not the same," Harry tried to reason. "C'mon, you can't be serious."

"I'm not letting you read that book," Ron said firmly.

"But I _have_ to," Harry pleaded.

"No you don't. Snape will do just fine."

"Snape won't understand-"

Ron crossed his arms defensively in front of him. "This is not negotiable."

George glanced to his twin. "Brother, our brother appears to be a very tough fellow."

"I like him," Fred grinned.

Ron reddened noticeably and in any other situation Harry might have found it endearing, but not when Ron was standing between him and the single most important object in his life.

"You can't do this," he whined.

"We already are," Rosier pointed out. "Don't make us knock you out. Because we will."

And that's how Harry found himself dragged back to the train by his so-called friends and locked inside his coach for the entirety of their travel.

No journal, no answers. Just him and the nagging feeling that he was running out of time.

 

* * *

 

The train only stopped once Hogwart's imposing figure could be seen outside Harry's window. And yet he wasn't being let out.

The others were probably hiding the journal god knows where in the massive castle while he was still locked in here. Riddle would first have to deal with lady Ravenclaw. At least Harry hoped that would be enough of a distraction for the lord not to start murdering his friends.

They had arrived late in the afternoon, and Harry was watching the sun slowly setting behind Hogwarts. Only when day had fully given way to twilight did the door finally open.

"I imagined several scenarios of your return over the past couple of days," Riddle said. "Coming back as a prisoner of your friends wasn't one of them. It amused me enough that I let them have their way."

Harry snorted. "You certainly didn't exactly hurry to rescue me."

Riddle's eyebrows rose. "I never took you for a damsel in distress."

"Do I look distressed?" he asked, still not bothering to get up from the couch.

Riddle came to stand in front of him, frowning. "You look miserable."

"Why thank you," Harry replied drily.

"Rosier assured me your _errand_ was a success." Riddle was clearly still not buying that excuse, though at least he didn't seem interested in pushing the issue just yet.

"It was."

"Then why the sour mood?"

Harry remained silent, staring at the ground.

Riddle sighed. "You even brought lady Ravenclaw back to fight at our side, so I suppose I can't be too harsh on you…"

Riddle was clearly waiting for some sort of response to his haughty remark, but Harry merely shrugged. He stood up and made to leave, but Riddle held him back.

" _Talk_ to me."

"Not in the mood," Harry grumbled.

He half-heartedly tried to pull his arm away from Riddle's grip, but the pressure only tightened. Riddle obviously wouldn't let this one go.

"It's nothing," Harry tried. "I just despise waiting idly."

Riddle stared him down for a few seconds, clearly not satisfied, before releasing him. "It seems you are in desperate need to get your mind off things."

Harry rolled his eyes. " _Really_ not in the mood."

"I wasn't suggesting _that_ ," Riddle chuckled. "Your friends are here."

Harry blinked at him uncomprehendingly.

"From London," the lord clarified.

Harry's eyes widened, all his worries miraculously disappearing.

"Sirius-!" He jumped down the train and began running towards the castle.

"I will just assume your enthusiasm at seeing me is implicit," Riddle yelled after him, but Harry ignored him.

He did feel a tiny bit bad for shutting him down completely. He knew Riddle had cut him a lot of slack just then, considering Harry had run off without permission and even worse without explanation.

Once again it was the lord's arrogant assumption that he would find out eventually which saved Harry from explaining or lying. Either that, or he had actually looked miserable enough for _Riddle_ to feel pity.

It was strange how much entering Hogwarts felt like coming home. The castle felt livelier than when he left it. There were more torches than usual burning in the entrance hall and he could hear _a lot_ of voices coming from the great hall. It seemed warmer than before, less like an abandoned ruin and more like the bustling school it used to be. Harry had lived his whole life in old decaying buildings, so the small change in the atmosphere was noticeable immediately.

"The stories we hear about you, young man…" chided a familiar voice.

Harry whirled around and couldn't contain the smile that lit up his whole face.

"Running around unsupervised, disrespecting your lord, starting revolutions…" Sirius continued, trying and failing to keep his voice stern. "Whoever taught you such wonderful mischief?"

Harry laughed and threw himself into Sirius' open arms. He almost immediately tried to wriggle free, because the other was returning the hug with crushing pressure.

"Ouch, Sirius, I still need those ribs!"

"Just checking if you're still in once piece."

"Ouff-… Not for much longer if this continues."

Sirius finally released him, but not before also thoroughly tousling his hair. "How are you kiddo?"

"Wonderful, now that I get to see sane people again."

Sirius snickered. "That bad, huh?"

"You shouldn't have come," Harry said seriously, even though he was more than happy to finally see him again. "This isn't your mess."

Sirius sighed. "I see you haven't changed in that regard either."

"I-…"

"From what Voldemort has told everyone here," Sirius interrupted. "This is everyone's problem. Also I can't help but think how my generation has let this happen in the first place. If anything, this mess belongs to us veterans, not you."

Harry could think of a couple arguments why this was very much his mess, but all of them would have required information Harry wasn't intending on revealing.

"Come on," Sirius said and threw an arm over Harry's shoulders. "Remus has been dying to see you too and someone has to drag him away from all that important lord stuff."

Harry had never seen the great hall this full. In fact, this might just be the most amount of people he had ever seen in one place, the crowd easily rivalling the one from Gryffindor's ball.

They elbowed their way through the chattering crowd until they found Lupin. He was talking with some lords Harry had never seen before, but whose eyes went wide at hearing his name.

Harry got the same crushing hug from Remus, which probably would have been embarrassing in front of all these people if Harry hadn't been so happy to see him.

While Lupin was checking him over and complaining about the unhealthy bags under his eyes, Harry spotted Moody and Aberforth. Shortly after, Luna caught his attention from the other side of the hall. She gave him a smile and a little wave, then returned to her conversation with Ravenclaw.

He knew he'd have to introduce Luna to the twins at some point. Hopefully the chance to explain themselves would give her some peace of mind.

He was not surprised when he couldn't spot the two identical redheads in the hall. For a long time, the twins had harboured such a deep seated hate for lords that it must have been hard for them to find themselves surrounded by their former prey. He was happy that they had decided to go to London. He couldn't think of a better person to change their views on lords than Remus.

Eventually some of the other lords demanded Lupin's attention, Sirius was surrounded by a bunch of his own group and Harry found himself surrounded by so many strangers who were willing to fight just because they knew his name.

Hoping to evade the impending awkward small-talk, he stepped a bit outside the crowd and surveyed from a safe distance.

Most of them really were complete strangers to him. He knew that a lot of them came from the resistance and thus knew that the chaos had been orchestrated. But others had only come due to alliances with Voldemort's group and must have only recently learned about the true nature of their new society.

No matter the reason for which they had come, it looked as if everyone they had contacted had arrived. And if everyone was here then they were ready to leave. And if they left then the fighting would start, endangering literally everyone Harry ever cared about. Also he would probably have to face Slytherin again, all the while preventing terrible secrets from seeing the light…

"So that's how the beginning of a brave new world looks."

Harry glanced over and saw that Snape had once again managed to sneak up on him.

"Pretty sure it's too soon to call it that," Harry retorted.

"This is potentially the single largest collaboration between humans since the chaos," Snape pointed out. "Congratulations, Potter."

Harry shook his head. "I just sent some letters. Riddle is the one leading them."

Snape gave him an odd look. "None of them are here for him. That is all you."

Harry laughed incredulously. "Don't tell him that."

"He knows. It's in the way he looks at you." Snape let out a long breath. "Potter, you have to tell him."

"We talked about this."

"Yes, but-"

"Aren't you supposed to be reading about the greatest scientific breakthrough in human history?" Harry asked sourly.

"I wondered when you'd bring that up."

"You can't just keep it from me."

"There's an old saying that has a lot of truth behind it," Snape said. "'Ignorance is bliss'."

Harry huffed. "What a load of bullshit."

"We are not maliciously trying to keep you in the dark. You know that."

"Do I?" he asked bitterly.

"Oh please," Snape sneered. "You're telling me _Harry Potter_ couldn't find the means to escape a train coach to search for a book?"

Harry recoiled slightly, because now that he thought about it, Snape was absolutely right.

"You listened to your friends because you trust them," Snape said. "Now trust me, Potter."

Harry clenched his teeth. "I'm trying."

Again people were keeping knowledge from him, claiming it was for his own good. Usually Harry would call bullshit on that in a heartbeat. But this whole _trusting_ thing was confusing him.

"What are you planning to do with our new friend?" Snape asked, lowering his voice even though they stood quite a bit apart from everyone else.

Harry rubbed his forehead, not wanting to think about somehow hiding Grindelwald from a castle full of people. "Where is he anyways?"

"Locked in an old cellar close to my quarters. Do you plan on telling these people that the main reason they lost their comfortable life is sitting just a few rooms away?"

Harry let out a dry laugh. " _That_ would raise interesting questions."

"Do you plan on telling our lord?"

Harry merely gave him a look.

"Forget I asked."

"We might still need him. I'm not fond about the idea of letting him near that journal but… He might be vital for understanding it."

Snape nodded, then turned to look at the full hall. "Now that everyone is here there's no point in waiting to attack. Voldemort has already discussed strategies with the other groups. We will leave soon. Very soon."

"I know."

Snape glanced at him. "Whatever is in that journal, even if I were to understand it at first glance I will need time to develop any sort of antidote against it. I will need to stay behind."

Harry raised his eyebrows, not quite sure how to interpret Snape's tone. "Sad to miss out on all the action?"

"I'm not lying to him again," Snape said resolutely. "Explaining _that_ to him is up to you."

"Explain what to whom?" Riddle asked silkily.

Harry almost jumped out of his skin.

"You know," Riddle mused, "You two really seem unable to work on your little plots inconspicuously."

Harry cleared his throat. "Uh, we weren't-…" he looked at Snape for help, but the other man had frozen as soon as Riddle showed up and was now diligently ignoring both of them.

"Fine," Harry said reluctantly. "If you really need to know _right now_ … Snape won't be able to join us once we leave."

Riddle narrowed his eyes sceptically. "Lost your taste for battle, Severus?"

"He's helping me," Harry said quickly. Letting Riddle focus on Snape was never a good idea.

"With your errand?" Riddle asked sarcastically.

"No, yes, kind of…" Harry stuttered.

"Have you ever seen a kitten play with a ball of yarn?" Riddle asked suddenly.

"I don't think I've ever seen yarn," Harry mumbled, but he knew Riddle wasn't actually expecting an answer.

"Getting so entangled in its play to the point of choking?" he continued in that almost-but-not-quite pleasant tone of his that made Harry gulp.

Riddle leaned down closer to him. "You're choking, _Harry._ "

Harry stared at him, refusing to back down now. "Remember why I insisted so much on keeping him around in the first place? He's the only one that can help me with what Dumbledore did to me."

"I thought those old samples led to nothing?"

"We're close to a breakthrough."

"How exciting," Riddle said, sounding bored. "But does it have to be _now_?"

"Surely you can spare _one_ of your men," Harry argued.

Riddle gestured to Snape. "That one has stopped being my man long ago."

"My loyalty to you remains unchanged, my lord," Snape said immediately and without inflection. His eyes remained fixed on the floor.

Riddle turned to him. "Your loyalty shifted the moment you set eyes on Harry."

"So did yours," Snape retorted bluntly.

Harry gaped at the sudden impudence. Riddle seemed equally caught off guard, but to Harry's relief he seemed to find some dark amusement in the statement.

"Well look at that. _Severus Snape_ is developing a spine." The lord shook his head lightly and turned to walk away. "It's a strange world indeed."

"Was that really necessary?" Harry hissed at Snape.

"He didn't even deny it," the other murmured, watching the lord's retreating back pensively.

Harry huffed exasperated, trying to ignore how somehow this conversation had made him flush, and hurried after Riddle.

He had to weasel his way through the crowded hall, but eventually caught up with Riddle.

"I'm not working against you, y'know."

Riddle glanced down at him. "Well you're not really working with me either."

Harry smiled. Riddle stopped, obviously confused and suspicious at his reaction. "What?"

"You said _with_ not _for_."

Riddle blinked at him, expression blank before the full meaning of the small detail settled over him. He turned abruptly and continued walking, Harry close on his heels, still smiling.

"Insolent child," Riddle muttered under his breath.

It was as close to flustered as Harry had ever seen him and it filled him with a weird fuzzy feeling.

"Come on," Riddle said, already sounding like his usual smug self. "I'm not letting you sit and plot heavens knows what with your little friends."

They were clearly steering towards the head table and Harry grimaced.

"But there are only lords and ladies up there!"

"I hadn't noticed."

"Liar," Harry said accusingly.

"Most of them came all this way just to see you," Riddle pointed out.

"On second thought, I'm not hungry at all today so…"

He tried to turn around, but Riddle subtly blocked his way. "I will never understand your reluctance to socialize."

"I will never understand your enjoyment in doing so," Harry shot back.

"You have friends up there."

"Amongst many many strangers."

"You have _me_ up there."

Harry could feel his ears getting uncomfortably warm. "I-…That- That's stupid."

Riddle smirked, as always enjoying his embarrassment way too much. "Is it?"

"Yes. You'll be busy wrapping everyone around your little finger anyways-"

"Never too busy for you."

"St- Stop it", Harry sputtered. "You tried that corny tactic out before."

"I never stopped."

"I notice."

They stared each other down, the fact that they were surrounded by so many people only serving to heat his face up even more.

"Harry!" Remus greeted again, this time only with Sirius in tow. "It is good to see you smiling. You seemed tense before."

"I was not smiling," Harry denied hastily.

Sirius looked at him confused. "Yeah you were."

Harry could see Riddle smirking beside him. He knew that, like a shark smelling blood, Riddle couldn't resist putting him on the spot.

"He remains tense even while taking a bath," the lord explained to the others innocently. "And he hates massages."

Remus hid his laugh behind a cough, while Sirius gaped at Riddle openly.

Meanwhile Harry was ready to sink into the floor and never come back.

"I will kill you," he hissed at Riddle.

Riddle seemed completely unbothered by his vicious glare. "You can try, but it will have to wait until after dinner."

A hand settled casually on his lower back, guiding him forwards.

"Time to meet your fans."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand we're back to my normal non-existent update speed :). As always, any and all feedback is highly appreciated!


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